The Future Is Wild!
by Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep
Summary: My rendition of the show's cruddy IMO first season plotline. Hopefully, I'll maybe just be more entertaining and informative...or crash and burn...yeah...UPDATED!
1. Chapter 0: Seeds of the Future

By now you probably know of the existence of 'Loonatics Unleashed!' on KidsWB. While I'm sure we're all in agreement that this show should have been left in the envelope the crazed fanfic writer mailed it in, I say that the show has/had potential.

After an inspiring read-thru of Jetdude's fic, "Loonatics: Unleashed", and a few episodes of the show, I thought I'd **try** to see if I could make a more…interesting version. Or maybe just give a clearer timeline. The graphic novel "Three Fingers" also inspired me, which is a parody of Mickey Mouse's glory years

Now, the show infers that the Loonatics are the descendants of the original Classic Looney Tunes. That means Acmetropolis is actually Earth. There's an 800+ year time difference between the 2. A big honkin' meteor gave them their extra-abilities. They live in a big glowing Hamsterball under the employment of an aging, duck-hating drag queen named Zadovia. Lola cannot technically be considered a Looney Tune as **she never starred in a Loony Tune cartoon**! We clear? Good. Let's begin.

Detractors: It could be worse! Imagine 'Loonatics Unleashed!' starring the Warner Brothers and their sister Dot!

Yakko: "I'm Yakko!"

Wakko: "I'm Wakko!"

Dot: "And I'm…GONNA KICK YER PANSY $$ THREE WAYS TO SUNDAY!"

Yakko: "Iiiii….don't think that's gonna get past the censors."

Dot: "Oh well. Standard disclaimers apply, you lucky people, you!"

Generally implies a thought

Generally implies emphasis, as .txt files usually drain it all away…

REVISION! I lengthened it. How d'ya like me now? And how did I become the 1st fic in the LU category!

RE-REVISION! Felt bad, added Lola's story. Forgot about Taz. Added him too. Sorry, Taz-fans!

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 0: From the Past, the Seeds of the Future 

The year is 1933. The third planet from the sun is still Earth, but it is not the one we know. Instead, it is the beloved little mudball of a dimension parallel to our own. Here, the dominant life form is still _homo sapiens_, but they are not alone. Several species of mammalians have also achieved sentience (and an opposable thumb).

However, these _anthro_ _sapiens_, better known as 'toons', are considered a type of second-class citizens, despite having full civil rights in the eyes of the law. Well-paying, respectable employment often eludes them, and housing ghettos, called "Toontowns", can be found on the outskirts of all major cities.

But this world also has it's own Hollywood, and thus, it's own tawdry beacon of hope. And, like in our own dimension, legendary stars can be born from the darkest pits of despair. Stars like Marlene Dietrich, James Dean, Clara Bow, and Judy Garland. Even a toon is not immune to this serendipitous magic. But, most toons have historically been given poor roles, such as 'Non-Speaking Farm Animal #12' or 'Non-Speaking Beloved Pet' (referred to as 'No-Nos' by actors and agents). Toons with extraordinary talent withered and broke under the dictatorial thumb of the studio executives. But some independent directors who catered to small budgets but big dreams eagerly employed toons into character roles, because they would work for peanuts (or carrots, bird feed, or a steak).

Bugsy 'Bugs' Bunny was one of those lucky few, an _anthro_ _sapien_ from Brooklyn's poorest ghettos, destined to leave an indelible mark in the development of toon acceptance. Born in a naturally large family, he started working in entertainment almost as soon as he could hop: earning a dime a day working in a carnival booth. His job? To avoid the BB pellets children and adults would shoot at him and his 'co-hoppers' to earn a cheap cigar or a stick of candy. Bugs quickly learned harassing the customer would earn laughs from the by-standers. Eventually, he was fired when one man nearly destroyed the booth after one too many bald jokes.

Bugs struck out for the west when a cousin outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico offered him a job as a tunnel digger. After accidentally making a right instead of a left, he ended up on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Dazzled by the grandiose Sunset boulevard and Rodeo Drive, he vowed then and there he would be a star.

After securing an agent, an apartment, and a doctored-up resume (in that order), his first role was, of course, a No-No. Bugs was to play a defenseless rabbit in a hunting safety film. Angered by the numerous instances of racial ignorance ("rabbits are easily ensnared into the simplest of traps due to a lack of intellect brought on by over-sexualization"), Bugs ruined take after take with bawdy yet hysterical commentary. The director, Fritz Frelong, was a toon actor's dream come true. He had enough power in the movie world to influence the executives, but was still independently minded enough to know talent when he saw it, no matter what shape it came in.

Fritz immediately told his writers and Bugs to create a new script razzing the hunting industry. A new hunter was cast, an unknown by the name of Elmer J. Fudd. The short film was a hit! Bugs' uneducated 'moidering' of proper English, his sense of comic timing and underdog status endeared himself to the conservative public.

Soon, more and more studios began creating separate toon studios to make short comedy films to premier before the bigger-budgeted human-led films. With his increasing popularity and success, Bugs helped pave the way for other toon breakouts, such as Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, and the destructive duo of Tom & Jerry.

Bugs lived a long prosperous life-longer than most of his kind (to which he credited "to carrots and goils!"), having never been married but having several long-time girlfriends. Rumors of offspring ran thru the tabloids, but no one ever came forward to claim the role of a lifetime: Bugs Bunny's one true kit.

--o--

Daffy Duck was one of the stars that got to shine in thanks in part to Bugs' popularity. Daffy was hatched in a Floridian marshland to a family with ideas bigger than their pocketbooks. That never stopped his parents, however. They lived the dream, keeping up appearances until repo men came and took everything away and the state declared them bankrupt and appointed them a financial guardian. Publicly ashamed, Daffy grabbed onto as much money as he could and bought a one-way ticket as far away as he could go.

Daffy and Bugs found each other when director Chuck Jones needed a character actor. Daffy got the role simply because he stalked everyone from the gaffer to the head writer, expounding his superior acting abilities. In reality, he'd never had a lesson in his entire life. During the entire shoot, Daffy tried his best to overshadow his co-workers and nearly got canned. Bugs saved his career, they say, with an incriminating photo of Jones and a buxom showgirl. Though never proven, Daffy did get to finish the shoot.

Bugs got a real kick out of riling up Daffy, both on and off set. Daffy, on the other hand, enjoyed the chance to try to steal the spotlight, even if he singed a feather or two in the process . The scriptwriters pounced on this rivalry (often to the duck's chagrin), creating comic gold. Despite the constant needling, the rabbit and duck became great friends.

Daffy had a couple of short-lived marriages to younger rising starlets, one of which resulted in a son who chose to work in government, a choice that fractured their relationship. Despite Bugs' best efforts, they never reconciled.

--o--

The Tazmanian Devil, or Taz as he was only known, was an 'extra' Warner Brothers accidentally acquired in the buyout of a rival independent studio. Ill-tempered and even iller mannered, he was left locked in a large steel cage with a small barred window. Day and night he could be heard in the lonely storage room raving like a rabid beast, the ground vibrating as the cage bounced around during his frequent tantrums. It was all the security guard could do to muster the courage to feed him.

And it would've _stayed_ that way if not for a certain little black duck.

In yet another futile attempt to upstage the rabbit, Daffy managed to 'toss' a wrecking ball into the storeroom where Taz was kept. The ball's momentum damaged the sturdy hinges on the beast's cage. A few trademark body slams and Taz found himself free for the first time in a long time. Immediately, Taz began terrorizing the studio back lots, sending crew members intro a panic and high strung actors to their trailers for a quick 'session' with their agents.

Forming a plan that used Daffy as bait, Bugs and a few brave stagehands finally trapped him into a closed set. The set just happened to be for a horror flick, consisting of a mirrored operating room strewn with fake bodies, fake blood, and metal pointy objects. Frightened and confused by the sudden turn of events, Taz ranted, raved, twirled, drooled, and finally began sobbing and sucking his thumb.

Claiming he simply couldn't stand to see a grown-man cry, the rabbit pitied the creature and begged off Taz's execution by the suddenly recovered security team. Thus, Taz's obedience training began. Realizing that the devil was of a (very) low IQ and therefore easily manipulated, Bugs' developed a few simple strategies, like occasionally importing a fake female devil, to throw off his train of thought and prevent another rampage. The directors gave him simple instructions, never planning too far ahead or asking for too much mental dexterity. The writers never bothered with his lines until the scene came up.

The audience was none the wiser, simply accepting Tax as the long-haired trickster's newest foil. When it was decided he was too old, he was returned to Australia with the presumption he would help control the explosive rabbit population. Instead, he simply stared at them, as if waiting for one of them to give him his cue…

--o--

Toon acceptance spilled over into the world of academics with the inclusion of Wile E. Coyote in the atomic and space programs in post-WWII America. Wile E. was born and raised in the American desert not too far outside of California, in a tiny little pueblo.

He demonstrated a keen intellect and a penchant for complex mechanic when he was but a mere cub, building a water pump/automated adobe processing plant for his community (The pump worked for several decades. The adobe plant sadly dried up in the first few hours in the desert sun and became a very nice place for teen coyotes to howl at the moon together). Realizing that to stay in the tiny village would result in a dead-end life, he applied to MIT with a cleverly completed application. Naturally, the Alumni were horrified they'd allowed a 'lower life' form into the prestigious school, even if by accident. But Wile E.'s application had been carefully worded to be accurate yet completely masking, and state law forced them to comply. Thus, Wile became the first ever toon ever to graduate from something beyond high school.

While receiving his masters, he was pulled aside and asked by several secretive gentlemen to accompany them. They were, as it turned out, members of the CIA. Wile E. intellectual record had been well documented, and he was 'encouraged' to return to the desert to assist in the still top-secret atomic projects of NASA and the Atomic Energy Commission. In return, the he'd receive a healthy salary, and the government would pay off his tuition bill.

Unfortunately, his exact contributions are cloaked in miles of red tape. It is known, however, Wile E. remained in government service till his retirement in the early seventies after lengthy battles over the safety of nuclear energies. Settling a few dozen miles away from his birthplace, he married and had a small litter of cubs. Getting on in years, he turned back to building fantastical creations. Many were, strangely, one-person flight apparatus', even though it was known the coyote had a strong fear of heights. One can only wonder what he could have been thinking.

--o--

Acceptance also spilled over into the world of sports with the arrival of gold medallist track star Road Runner in the mid-seventies. This desert-dwelling breed was largely ignored due to perceived lack of intelligence, mainly due their monosyllabic language, non-humanized form, solitary existence, and incessant need to run those long deserted roads.

Road Runner was typical in those respects, growing up in the Mojave regions, outwitting the animals that wanted him for food and the truck drivers who regarded his kind as 'sport'. As luck would have it, it was avoiding one such driver that led him to Foghorn Leghorn, former coach for the US Olympic teams. The bawdy, hotheaded, arrogant rooster from Arkansas was well known in the sports world as making…unusual choices. He had forsaken coaching the one and only Muhammad Ali in favor of a backwoods Mexican boxer named 'Rodney the Rooster'.

But Foghorn knew what he liked and liked what he saw. He bet everyone in the diner that would listen that he had found 'The Big One', America's next darling of the sports world. Before the poor little runner knew to blink, he'd been signed into a 5-year contract.

But to a roadrunner, to run is to exist and to exist is to run, and so our Road Runner blithely accepted this new twist in his young life. Soon, stories bordering on legend spilled from the desert like a flash flood about the 'Purple Bullet' that outran anything put against him (some of the more humorous included the wild misadventures of an aging coyote using everything from roller skates to atomic jet packs to catch the feathered fellow).

As such, the air was charged with electricity when the Summer Olympics returned to Melbourne, Australia. As promised by his coach, Road Runner cleaned up in every race (even the relay!). America was ecstatic! The image of the lowly roadrunner was stylized and emblazoned on everything from erasers and socks to hood ornaments for the finest sports cars. Foghorn Leghorn made a fortune, selling interviews, public appearances, and doing anything else he could make money on. Road Runner, sadly, made little or nothing from all the publicity. It was believed that the joy of competition and some birdseed was all he wanted, since no one bothered to learn his language.

Foghorn pushed his young star, entering him in any race that would let him in. But after only 2 years, he was forced to retire after when not even his own kind would compete against him. Foghorn then turned his eye on technology, offering races against racecars and trains. One race against a bullet train badly injured the little bird when an electrical wire came loose from the rail and shorted.

Road Runner had had enough. With time still on his contract, he slipped away into the Mojave Desert, never to be heard from again. He is still the fastest Olympic athlete the world has ever seen, and future generations of roadrunners bow their heads in reverence when the topic of conversation turn towards the great 'Purple Bullet'.

--o--

Lola Bunny started life as a farmer's daughter, growing up in a cloistered midwestern town in the eighties. Her family was unusual because her mother suffered from uterine problems, and so consisted of Lola and two young brothers. Her father was rarely seen as he struggled to keep their over-sized farm out of the hands of Acme Bank. Lola's parents had counted on a large family to help out when they had bought the place, and so Mrs. Bunny's health problems (and a bad case of fungal rot) resulted in extended loans and second mortgages to pay for extra hands. Farmer and Mrs. Bunny made sure their children never went hungry, had nice clothes and a solid education, and there was always a nice thing or two under the Christmas tree for each of them. Lola grew up constantly hearing from her mother that modern girls could do anything with a good education and a coy smile, and early responsibilities such as baby-sitting and farm work gave her a strong work ethic and a penchant for an active sports-oriented lifestyle.

One day a young boyfriend gave sixteen-year-old Lola a flyer for a one-shot contest in Chicago with a grand prize of $100,000. She immediately took every free moment of her day to practice her own techniques, much to the boyfriend's annoyance, who had simply wanted a…cheerleader. Her parents bought her a single bus ticket, made her promise to call from every other pay phone, and tearfully gave her a proud sendoff from the station.

On the night of the contest, she was as primed as she could be. When her turn approached, she put everything she had into that free throw she could. She missed the throw by a fraction of an inch. But she **did**, however, impress the head coach of Illinois University. He promised that if she kept practicing and came back to make the same shot when she was eighteen, she'd get in on a basketball scholarship. Naturally, she did.

During her four year turn at college life, Lola became the 'kid to watch' as her team had several banner years. She made sure all her teammates knew she wasn't some backwoods hick by making the dean's list as well as being an enthusiastic fundraiser and eventual MVP. With her skill and agilty, the Illinois' women's basketball team reached the finals three years in a row.

But the ride on a shooting star isn't always a smooth one. In her final year, during a particularly intense match, Lola was knocked into the courtside seats by, most humiliatingly, a jealous teammate. The girl was suspended, but Lola's shoulder was seriously damaged. Forced out of the rest of the season, she took to spending lonely nights rehabilitating her psyche and her shoulder in empty courts. She cheered from the sidelines and tried to inspire her broken and suspicious team, but they never made it to the final preliminaries. She graduated with honors later that year, but sadly her former injury gave a toon-phobic, chauvinistic sports world the excuse it needed to deny her a rightful chance at going pro.

Lola luckily always possessed charm and wit and genuine warmth, and those who had been her friends before now came to her aid. Her former coach installed her as a talent scout for the University, and many diamonds broke out of the rough thanks to her. Teammates who either went pro and made money or else 'retired' and _married_ money invited her to glitzy parties. It was at one of these where she became romantically linked for a while with Hollywood icon Bugs Bunny, fifty years her senior!

--o--

Toons began moving out of the segregated 'Toontowns' and into apartments left behind as city dwellers moved into the suburbs. Better jobs and more education meant a stronger economic base, lower taxes and longer, healthier lifespans. Thus, a new Golden Age of Toons was born. But could it last?

---------------o---------------

Of all the _anthro_ _sapiens_, bird types were the last to evolve. Of those that did, gregarious, heavily contacted species (duck, chicken) achieved the 'ideal' body type-upright posture, vocal chords, and finger specializations, much faster and earlier than those that led solitary lives away from human gathering places (road runners, vultures

Obviously it's a crime to kill any _anthro sapien_. But naturally, there are other branches of non-anthro versions of creatures about, such as cattle, turkeys, etc.

Obviously, I'm taking some liberties. Ok, a **lot** of liberties. But I'm trying to make a world here! Heck, a dimension, really! I don't even really know at this point how much of this is going to matter later on in the story, but at least we have background, which is more than the producers of LU ever gave us (I read that Florence Henderson is going to be a voice on the show! Ack! Carol Brady?). I wanted to be different-not everyone could be a famous movie star. So, how was this? Too melodramatic? Too wordy? Not wordy enuff? Feel free to positively critique (no, that doesn't just mean 'nice job!'). And feel free to lambast the show, but say **something** about the fic too, please!


	2. Chapter 12: Gestation

Before we go any further:

**WHAT THE HELL DID THEY DO TO FOGHORN LEGHORN!**

I can't believe they did that. That's insane, and confusing. What, a talking duck is fine, but not a talking rooster?

Also, I just watched "Looney Tunes: Back in Action" this past weekend. I thought it delightfully funny. And I'm amused to see 2 things:

Bugs and Daffy, as I wrote in my earlier chapter, are rivals yet friends. Bugs wouldn't let anything bad happen to his favorite target (for too long!), and Daffy sure as hell knows it!

Although I doubt they realized it, in effect they showed nearly the entire mindset behind the conception and production of LU in the lunchtime meeting of Kate and Bugs.

Now, the show has become a disappointment to me. Really. I had a hope that they were going belatedly attempt to give us a back-story when they showed the Loonatics' former lives. Alas, they've gone back to the formulaic action hero thing: Intergalatic circus causes chaos, futuristic game (looking suspiciously like Quidditch) gets disrupted, etc, etc, etc…Do u think they'll have a holiday and/or drug prevention themed episode? Or did that go away with the rise of Pokemon?

But I'm still going to try and press on to create a better world for our poor little icons….

Brain: "Pinky? What are you doing using my high-speed Internet connection without asking?"

Pinky: "Why, Th'same thing Oi do ev'ry noight, Brain!"

Brain: "And that is…?"

Pinky: "To try an' google th' woirld! Narf!"

Brain: " sigh . Citizens, please take a moment to appreciate the standard disclaimer feature normally inserted here."

Pinky: "NARF! Oi've gawt a hit, Brain!"

Brain: "…"

Generally implies a thought

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 1: Gestation, The Womb Swells With Life 

It is now 2771. Over 800 years have passed since Bugs Bunny and his ilk began paving the way to toon equality. But as far as they've come, they are still so very far behind.

To the credit of humanity, the word 'toon' and 'toontown' became politically incorrect, a racial slur. In it's place, bigoted humans whispered "Fuzzies" around the house and called them by their species in public. The best jobs still eluded _anthro sapiens_, but at least they could get a decent wage and health insurance (a/n: now if only **I** could get that!).

Earth is nearly unrecognizable from our viewpoint. Major cities like New York, Cairo, London, Paris, and Beijing expanded relentlessly, swallowing up and homogenizing smaller cities, towns, villages and hamlets until these Megatropolis' bumped into each other's borders. Technology made nearly everything on the globe accessible to anyone who had a Comm-port1 and a credit card.

By the year 2626, it was evident that there was no longer any **real **separationof countries anymore. The creation of a new global government became necessary, a government that looked like the U.N but acts like Congress. A new currency was developed, and the planet was renamed in honor of the new unity, a name that reflected the pinnacle that _anthro _and_ homo sapiens_ had reached: Acmetropolis.

And so everyone lived normal, average lives, interrupted by the occasional college counter-culture rebellion and occasional natural disaster. But it wasn't going to stay that way much longer…

Chapter 2: Painful Labors-Push, Push! 

**"You'll never defeat the people of Acmetropolis, you slime-slobbering scum!" **

A tall, muscular man, tattered and bruised by battle, stood daring and defiant against his foe, a 12 foot tall robotic insect-like being. In response to the puny human's battle cry, the creature lowered its head, opening toothy jaws that dripped a putrid looking substance. It hissed as it crept closer…closer…

**"AND CUT!"**

The contraption shuddered and squealed into a state of rest. Two fresh-faced interns ran over fussed over the jaws, adding more liquid slime to the containers and re-checking the pumps. A casually dressed man carrying a teleboard2 walked up to the other human, who scratched his stomach and belched.

"Great job, Rocky. Go on and take a break, man." As Rocky strolled off, the director turned back to the crew and bellowed, "Where's that stuntrabbit? Get him out here now!"

A four-foot tall gray rabbit dressed in the same tattered clothes as Rocky's and carrying a latex mask of a human face appeared. "Here I am, doc!"

"Good. Get yer mask on. Yer to do it **exactly** as it says in the script, got it?"

"Yea, doc, sure. But what say we mix it up a little? I got some great ideas!"

The director quirked an eyebrow as he bent ominously over the eager little lagomorph. "Ideas, Ace?"

Ace grinned as he mistook the tone for interest. "Yea, I've got sum crazy karate techniques we could use on dis guy! Y'know, a little, _woo-wah_!" Ace made a few motions with his hands, "Now, da way I sees it-"

"ACE!" He roared, making the rabbit flinch, "I've got a budget and a deadline. I've got a nervous studio watching my every move. I'm not in the mood for experimental outtakes. **I'm** the director, **yer** the **non-speaking** stuntman. I'm the boss, you're expendable. Do yer job, do it the way it's supposed to be done, or grab yer last check and CLEAR OUT!"

Hurt appeared in the rabbit's blue eyes. "Yea, I got it doc. No kung-fu."

"Good. All Right! We're losing daylight, people!"

The director walked back to his chair, leaving Ace alone. He contemplated telling the big bully where to stick it, but roles for _anthros_ had declined again in the centuries since his ancestor became Hollywood's golden boy.

Oh yes, he was a direct descendant of the legendary Bugs Bunny. It was a secret passed along the line for decades. Why it was such a big secret had been lost long ago-Ace only knew trying to brag about it only resulted in getting a good boxing from his mother. He bet she didn't know, either.

It was Bugs' legacy that had inspired Ace into the film industry. He'd grown up surrounded by dull, unimaginative siblings watching and re-watching as many of his old shorts as he could get his little paws on. Ace practiced his stand-up with only slightly less devotion he gave to his martial arts lessons. He was bound and determined to outshine his ancestor and become the first _anthro _to become a serious action star. Bugs Bunny had made them laugh. Ace was going to make them gasp. But all he'd managed to do so far was hobble from week to week doing stunt work, barely earning enough to keep his heat on and belly full.

Was this really the life he was meant to live?

"A-a-and **Action**!"

Ace barely had time to blink before the robo-alien grabbed him in its jaws and proceeded to do a **very** good job of pummeling him. And when **that** was all over, the director roared w/fury-Ace wasn't wearing his mask! The shot was worthless! And worse, the (expensive) pump had been severely damaged due to Ace's flailing appendages, causing an abrupt end to the day's shoot! And it was only nine am!

"**YER FIRED! GET OUTTA HERE BEFORE I THROW YA OUT!"**

Dejected, bleeding, his dream of stardom seemingly lost, the twenty-year-old gray bunny rabbit hung his head and walked off to his locker.

--o0o--

Across town from where Ace's movie career had suddenly spiraled, in a recycled brick gymnasium on a suburban (as close as suburban as you can get in Acmetropolis, anyway) college campus, another dreamer was raring to set forth on a bright and shining future.

"**Okay! Wel-come, ev-arybahdee ta tryouts!"**

A well-formed woman with short blond hair crowed atop a cheap folding table, waving bright red pom-poms and wearing a rather tiny cheer outfit. She beamed down at the incoming class of hopefuls below her, her countenance belying a person who had enjoyed an easy, self-absorbed life due to the security of youthful beauty and popularity.

"All right, troops!" A clean-shaven, well-muscled blonde man cheered as the blonde got off the table and took a seat between him and a red-haired woman attired similarly as the other woman. All three seemed incapable of frowning. "Now, everybody's had time to create and hone their routines. I know that you all know there are only two spots available this semester, and there are six of you. But don't let that bother you! Just relax, and have fun, ok?"

"Okay! Who's first?" the blonde crowed, shaking her pom-poms above her head again. Next to her, the redhead consulted her Teleboard, looked up with a smile, and called out the first name. "Umm…Lexi…Bunny?"

Up from the floor rose a nervous-looking, small-waisted rabbit. She was about four foot tall, yellow-furred with a thick thatch of it falling in her green eyes. She made her way to the center of the blue exercise mat and adjusted her faded cheer outfit of the same color. She was fully aware that she was the only _anthro_ present, and everyone was staring at her. Maybe the lipstick **had** been a bad idea…

"Umm, okay, Lexi. Just relax and start whenever you're ready." The young man politely told her. Lexi nodded, took a steadying breath, and motioned for the music to start. She faulted at the start, jumping to high up and too far out, almost landing on the judges. _" Focus Lexi, Focus! "_ She berated herself as she pressed on, soon losing herself into the flips and postures she'd rehearsed anytime she had more than ten seconds to herself.

"Whoa, she's really good!" the redhead whispered excitedly. "She's a little small, but what energy!"

"Yeah, she's better than you are, Catherine!" the blond man said. Catherine, the blonde in the middle, glared daggers at the young man. Not likely! When the bunny's high-energy routine ended, she quickly rose from her seat and passed judgment before anyone could react.

"Thank you! We'll be in touch! NEXT!"

Lexi stared in disbelief for a few seconds as everyone looked around awkwardly. Rabbits are naturally athletic-none of the other girls could dream of twisting and leaping so gracefully. But Catherine was the head cheerleader, and one less girl gave them all one more shot, so in the end all Lexi could do was walk off dejectedly. As she walked out the double doors, she reached up and pulled out the green ribbon loosely tied around her ears.

"Some luck you were." She tied it back on with a heavy-hearted sigh and wondered if she'd ever get the chance to show the world how truly fabulous she could be.

--o0o--

Outside of a modern fourteen story, if-you-have-to-ask-you-can't-afford-it hotel was a pool. Not just any pool though. _This_ pool was what the hotel was most renowned for in the area. It was documented in all the best travelogues as the most aesthetically pleasing family pool around the Los Frisco area. It was a quad level structure made of clear plexi-vinyl3, the top level was a working hot tub reserved for VIPs. A waterfall in each level assured that the hot tub was constantly replenished with fresh water, and a Dead-Zone amplifying system4 assured privacy for the distinguished guest. The next level down was slightly larger and reserved for guests of the hotel administration and the off-duty hotel staff (who lived in the hotel for a span of three months, on call for twenty-fours a day save law-required breaks). The third level was adults-only and featured a full 'swim-up' bar. The largest level was all-access, and sported a curly slide, dive board, and a family-friendly poolside café. Normally a very active, bustling place, only the café was hosting a few parents with small children. It was just after noon, and the little ones were busy smooshing ketchup designs onto the imported, hand painted Italian tile surface of the outdoor tables.

"And watching over all from atop his tall white tower of safety, sits the all-seeing, ever-ready Lifeguard!"

A three-and-a-half foot tall black duck dressed in a tank and shorts and sunglasses proudly narrated his tour of duty. Relaxing back, he put his wings behind his head and smiled. "Nothing gets past **this** little black duck, no siree!"

"Duck! Vat are yoo doo-ink!" A white furred, muscular arm snapped out and grabbed the fowl by the cowl of his tank. "Yoo are shirkink yore dooty again! Quit playing around and get back to work! That pool is not goink to stay clean by itself!"

The over-muscled canine tossed the pool scoop at the duck, knocking him on his backside with the effort. Getting to his webbed feet, Duck straightened his glasses.

"Fine muscles, have it your way!" Duck glumly thrust the bag into the water towards a white foreign substance dancing along the bottom. "Fine way for a hero-in-waiting to have to earn a living!" He scooped up item and angled it for a quick inspection. At that moment, a woman walked by carrying her toddler son.

"Mine!" The infant crowed, pointing to the newly rescued object. Clucking her tongue at her bare-bottomed son, she barely missed a step as she reached in wordlessly and snatched the object-a diaper cover made do protect during swimming and moved on.

Duck shuddered. He **hated** having to disinfect the pool! The chemical smell of the cleaners stayed in his pinfeathers for **days**! Not to mention the indignity of enduring the harassment of the guests who wanted to use the pool _right this instant_. Duck sighed as he stared out across the courtyard, leaning on the long pole for support. He thought of his hero, the incredible _Duck Dodgers! Of the 24 ½ century!_

_" What would he do in a situation like that. " he_ laughed bitterly, a sharp barking sound. _" **He'd** never be in a situation like this to begin with! "_

Duck had wanted to be a hero from the day he first saw the green-clad, red-caped duck soar across his television screen. Heroes were always celebrated, idolized, and adored by young and old forever. A public that loved you forgot your little mistakes, and if they began taking you for granted, a simple little bit of 'save-the day' brought them running back to you. A hero like Duck Dodgers was never forgotten, never overlooked.

"Duck! Yoo are slackink again!"

And never had to answer to overbearing superiors. If only the military would overlook his flat feet!

--o0o--

A few thousand miles from the Grand Canyon the University of Four Corners proudly stands, a clinical white elephant in the center of the man-made oasis of the cityburb of Borasilica. This is the place to go if your desire, your IQ, and your pocketbook are all extraordinary.

Bankrolled by several of the largest software companies (and some say certain military branches), it is **the** think tank of the west. Representatives scour the world for the brightest of the bright, the crème de la crème of the incoming intellectual elite. The blessed few are given full scholarships, a nearly unlimited budget, access to the newest tools and information, tutelage by the greatest minds available in the fields of chemistry, microbiology, nanotechnology-whatever scientific field you choose. It's a little like having Einstein as your physics professor, Steven Hawkins as your tutor, and Thomas Edison as your shop teacher. Only better.

In return, all your inventions and theories are intellectual property of the bankrolling corporations5. But with such valuable resources to waste at their whim, most students were willing to pretend not to notice the fine print on their application papers.

On the far end of the campus were the manufacturing hangars. These semi-circular buildings were reserved for the construction of large objects, such as interstellar radio telescopes or the newest type of aircraft. It was well soundproofed inside and out, so that several students could work simultaneously without distractions. Inside one, a bald, heavy-set man in a long white coat jiggled impatiently as a similarly attired male coyote fussed with the inner workings of his latest invention and thesis project

"Might I remind you, Mr. Coyote, that I **am** a busy man, and have several other student projects to check on?"

"Yes, yes sir, I understand. Just a few more adjustments…" Tech E. Coyote's fingers never stopped their dance among the circuits and wires. He'd poured every breath into this, his creation, until it was as much of him as an extra organ. Everything had to be just right. Grades were nothing, his ego demanded perfection. To settle for what you just created was to miss the opportunity to excel. His mother had fed him this mantra along with her breast milk. You can always be smarter. You can always create something better. You can always find a new way.

Tech idly wondered for a moment what his mother would say to all her co-workers. For twenty-four years he'd been primed for this moment-one positive test result and he'd graduate from the most prestigious university. Despite some fantastic failures, he'd made enough silk purses from sow's ears to be promised a paid internship inside the AcmeMicrosoft Corporation. It was an honor he was eager to pursue at nearly any cost. Too quickly he came back to reality as the man's burly hand pulled him away from the panel he'd been working on.

"You spend too much time adjusting, son! It's like painting a master work of art-eventually you've got to put your brush down!"

With horror, Tech realized what was going to happen. Futilely, he waved his arms. "Professor, sir! Please be careful! I installed a self-destruct mechanism for extra credit!"

Too late. A thunderous boom, and a massive gray-white cloud of smoke and debris broke through the hangar wall. Tech was blown out too, and rolled down several steps before coming to a stop on the road. He groaned as he pushed his bruised form off the asphalt.

"MANIAC!" The professor staggered out from the ruined building, covered from head to toe in soot, his collar bobbing from the back of his neck like a deranged pigeon. "THIS IS THE **LAST** STRAW! YOU ARE HEREBY **EXPELLED** FROM THIS ESTEEMED UNIVERSITY! GET OUT! **GET OUT**!

Tech dropped his head back onto the ground. How could he face his mother now?

--o0o--

In the outskirts of the campus are the houses, shopping centers, restaurants and entertainments for the students and of course the workers that keep the university town up and running. Like any city, there are some districts that are better than others. But everywhere you go, no matter how seedy the neighborhood, you can _always_ find a Qwick Warp_tm_. These little franchises specialize in affordable fast food twenty-four hours a day. They're not the best nutritionally, but if it's not at your door in thirty minutes, it's absolutely free.

"Cookie' McGhee was a typical owner of such an establishment-sour-faced from indigestion, massive arms from working the slicers, bow-legged from lifting heavy boxes and sacks, and clad in a stained white apron. His gruff attitude and stinginess resulted in a steady string of adolescent delivery workers who invariably quit as soon as the next edition of the Jobfinder hit the streets.

So Cookie gave no more thought to the unusual appearance of his newest hired hand than the flies that walked over the pre-cooked turkey rounds that rested in the case between sandwiches. Flinging a grease-laden package into a paper sack, he thrust it at the nineteen year old lounging on the other side of the counter.

"You've got five minutes to make this delivery, or else I'm gonna take it outta your paycheck!"

"No problem-o, Cookie!" Rev Runner cheered. A roadrunner wasn't your typical city dweller. In the centuries since the famed 'Purple Bullet' lived, they had dramatically changed, physically. The rapidization of desert irrigation forced the runners into closer and closer contact with other _anthro_ and _homo_ _sapiens_. The change in perspective forced them into a severe evolutional upheaval-within the span of four hundred years, road runners not only developed an upright posture, defined hand, finger, and thumb formations, a more wrinkled brain and a shorter neck, but the ability to vocalize in the predominant language of English. Still, though, they preferred the solitude and simplicity of running through the deserts to civilization, and the typical runner home is essentially a cool, dry sandstone cave with Spartan furnishing.

Clothing was the current rage among the younger, more rebellious runners. Those loyal to the old ways preferred to live in what _O'kulumbo_6, the all-god, had given them. Rev was **not** among that crowd. No long out of the red plumage of a juvenile, he wore the short suit favored by his kind and those that made a living out of the Tour de France in the same blues and purples of his natural plumage. Attached to his feet were a pair of souped up rocket blades.

"You can count on me!" With that he tapped on his skates and flew out the door in a cloud of steam. As he sped thru the city to his destination, his mind pounced on his favorite scenario for times like this, when he had but moments to reach the finish line-that he was out on the field, hundreds of race fans cheering in admiration at his speed and grace, and there, at his tail feathers, was his rival, his ancestor, the Road Runner.

Road Runner's progeny suffered an odd fate. As he lived out his life in the shadows of the desert, his story became mixed with the legends of _First Runner_7 until they were almost inseparable. And thus, he became the epitome of speed and endurance. Despite the odd looks thrown their way by non-runners, every runner humbly claimed to be unable to outrun Road Runner, even when the facts were in front of them. The children of the 'Purple Bullet' were actually scorned, as if their presence in this world tainted his name.

And yet Rev's mother spoke of her great-great…grandfather with respect and love, and tried to teach her son and daughter the same. But Rev could only feel the sneers of the other males, hear the snickers of the females and the taunts of the coyote cubs who still chased runners down the lonely roads. So Rev left his desert life behind, playing delivery boy at several jobs at a time to pay the rent on a little fifth floor walk-up as close to the center of the city he could get.

He tore through the city streets, so lost in his vision he barely registered the chaos left in his wake. Finally, his destination appeared before him: a security guard on the steps of Borasilica's Main Research Library.

"Qwik Wrap delivery! Where if it's not in your hands in thirty minutes-"

"-It's totally free. It's 5:06, and you're one minute late."

Rev blinked, then smiled politely. "Well, your watch must be fast," Rev said, the irony of the statement going over his head, "because-"

The guard grabbed the sack from the bird's hand and turned back up the stairs, "Nope, you're late and it's free."

Rev sputtered where he stood, helpless against the human's retreating form. "But you don't understand! See, I won't get paid…"

He trailed off as he realized he was essentially talking to himself. Hanging his head, he sank like a deflated balloon onto the cold granite stairs. Cookie was true to his word; he docked any delivery boy who came back empty-handed. Being what he was seemed to bring out the worst patrons. It was as if they expected him to be unable to count simply because he was a roadrunner! And the worst part was that Rev still believed in the best of people. No matter how they cheated or stole from him, he still came back hoping there'd been even the tiniest of changes since the time before. A trait he had inherited from his mother…

"I'm never going back to the desert, mother. Not before I prove there's more to me than what they think. I'm no pushover, and I'll show it on **my** terms! You'll see!"

A young couple started and tittered at Rev's little display as they walked past. He blushed and quickly sat back down. He shrugged his thin shoulders-there was no real hurry to go back to Cookie and get reamed out then sent out with another warning. Resting his smooth beak on a feathered palm, he watched the world march by, secure in their importance and place in life.

--o0o--

In the center of the gambling district (that we'd know as the area between Reno and Las Vegas) stands a giant plexi-vinyl covered dome set atop a thirty-foot tower. Searchlights shone through the dome, just barely visible against the evening sky. Inside, crowds in various states of drunkenness roared in near hysteria as a man's voice bellowed over the PA system:

"**LET'S GET READY TO RUUMBAAALLLL!**"

Showers of sparks spewed from flashpots above a stage. A six-foot tall, muscular man in form-fitting blue sparkly spandex strode out and postured for the crowd's enjoyment. He wore a spandex half-mask and sported a tall purple-red Mohawk.

"**Wrestling fans, Welcome back the three time heavy-weight champion: BLUEEEEE THUN-DERRR!**"

Blue Thunder strolled down the carpeted lane, hi-fiving random fans. Reaching the ring, he bounced around and stretched as the sour-looking ref glanced at his watch. From the opposite side of the arena, another shower of sparks poured forth. This time, a squat figure appeared. A well-muscled Tasmanian Devil dressed in purple spandex and sporting a dual goatee spun and spat before waving to the crowd excitedly.

"**And welcome, friends, a new face in the world of pro wrestling, already making waves: SLAAAM TASMANIA!**"

Slam spun down the carpet to a mixed chorus of cheers and boos. After the prerequisite warnings from the referee, man and beast collided ferociously. After a few moments, Slam had the champ in a headlock.

"Nice show, m'boy." Blue stage-whispered to his shaggy opponent. "Make it look good before you go down!"

"#$$&!" Objected Slam.

"There's a deal, here, kid!" Blue spat thru clenched teeth. Even though the devil wasn't **really** trying, his grip was solid and the older man was having a bit of trouble catching a decent breath. "You're supposed to take the fall!"

"Slam. Want. Win!" he cried as he flipped the human onto his stomach. Slam clambered up the ropes and body slammed the champ good. The crowd rose to its feet and roared as the referee began the count.

"…**8…9…10!**"

The sour-faced man raised Slam's arm. "**The winnah! Slam Tasmania!**"

Chaos erupted as the loyal fans of the Blue Thunder demanded a rematch. People were jostled; fistfights began. Soon there were the beginnings of a mass riot. Slam celebrated in the center of the ring oblivious to anything but the fact that he'd won. He didn't care that, politically, his career was over. He'd find a way to use his bulk again-but this time he wouldn't stoop to being some bully for some underground overlord. He'd walked that route, and found it most distasteful. And no fun. And Slam liked fun. He liked winning.

And so, he continued his solitary celebration. Until he realized that a light brighter than any he'd ever seen seemed to be growing ever closer….

--o0o--

Tech: "…You made me a momma's boy?"

N.d.A: "Noo! Gimmie time! I'll explain!"

Tech: "I'm not going to hold my breath."

Ok, ok. So what do you, the reader think? What would u rather see me do, continue leaving footnotes in this fashion, or having the descriptive come right after the word?

So, in case u haven't noticed, we've gone thru a whole day here. Which means I messed with the time frame. But if u saw this particular episode, u'll see that I kept the jobs Warners gave them. I call this episode, 'The One That Gave Me Hope', because I really thought they were going to listen to reason and start filling in all the blank spots we were complaining about! After seeing Foghorn, I seriously begin to wonder if the dude shown at the end of that episode simply wants to get a better view of Venus!

As for Rev and Tech, I suppose writing after reading 'Watership Down' stirs the blood. If you like, maybe I'll type up one of the 'old stories'.

_1. Comm-port: a specialized data transfer program that expedited the transactions of consumers and mega-corporations. Simply visit your favorite shop-site; select an object, and it will appear on the port as an extremely tangible virtualization. You can feel a fabric, check the fit, and combine it with that blazer you have at home to coordinate. Then you can simply select your shipping options and the amount is deducted from your card. The ultimate in shopping luxury and relaxation. _

_2. Teleboard: The digital answer to all your paper needs! Write or draw directly on the pad with the TouchStylus pen (sold separately), or import .pdf, .txt, .bmp, .jpg, and .word files via its handy Internet port. By AcmeMicrosoftttm_

_3. Plexi-vinyl: the newest in plastics, it has the best physical aspects of glass and plastic. It is moldable, bendable, and has the highest tensile strength to date. Its uses are primarily military, but businesses that can afford it, use it._

_4. Dead-Zone: The last word in sound deadening technology. Dead-Zone creates a low-frequency hum that disrupts sound waves in a diameter as small as 3'. Sounds are disrupted from both within **and** without. By AcmeMicrosoftttm_

_5. Former alumnus Barry Punderschmidt, inventor of sound deadening technology, recently made headlines for challenging this long-standing policy, claiming he had designed the system before entering the university, and that a student's mind was his own. The Acmetropolis High Supreme Court, the highest court there is, decreed that he and all students willingly entered into contract with the university, and was bound by those terms. As for the system, he had never filed a patent on the design, but since he **had** built the prototype, he was entitled to a small percentage of the sales from the first version release only._

_6. O'kulumbo: to the roadrunner, and the coyote, this is the creator of the universe and the mbokuta, the typical pantheon gods such as the god of storms, sun, etc. _

_7. First Runner: the first roadrunner, said to be created from the dust of First Road and the spittle of First Wind_


	3. Chapter 34: Crowning

Authoress Update: I GOT A NEW COMPUTER! 

Of course, this doesn't mean much to u the reader, as I can finally play Sims2. So this prolly won't update any faster! I'm still a little confused by the new layout-like this Microsoft Word program. Seems like whenever I get comfy using one system, they mix it up till it's nearly unrecognizable.

Have u noticed that LU was moved up an hour? I'm not sure what that signifies. I know that putting a weaker show after a strong one(like say, 'Reba' following 'Friends') helps it gain an audience, but I'm not sure if that applies to kids shows. Maybe that's why 'Coconut Fred' takes over the 10:30 time slot. I hope it stays up longer than it takes me to write this fic! Lol!

And in other news, I'm pleasantly surprised by the positive response I'm getting here. Thanks a lot, and I mean it. I hope I've given some credible motivations for our stars. I wonder if u recognize any of the extras that appeared thus far(all 2 of them!). I hope to be able to place more, for fun. See if u can see.

Wile E. Coyote: "Of course, it shouldn't take a **Genius** to understand, but I am compelled to remind you all Standard Disclaimers apply. Now, Being the **Genius** that I am, I feel obligated to expound to your poor sots just what that exactly means-"

Rev Runner: "BEEP BEEP!"

insert standard 'missle drop' and 'splat' sounds here

Road Runner: "Beep Beep!" "Nice job!" 

Rev: "Hey, thanks!"

Road: "Beep Beep." "For a hack, anyway." 

Rev: "That's-not-very-nice! I-mean-really-what-kind-of-compliment-is-that-I-mean-what-a-gyp-"

insert standard 'missle drop' and 'splat' sounds here

Road: "Beep _beep_." "There can be _only_ one." 

Neffie: "…"

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 3: Crowning 

Outer space is a most peaceful place. After all, in space, no one can hear you scream-no air means no sounds to hear. Nothing but stillness and emptiness surrounds our noisy little home sweet home, like a invisible security blanket.

But this is all an illusion. We're not alone-we were never alone. The universe at large reminds us of this fact every so often, sending the occasional ambassador to rendezvous. These visits often lead to dramatic results-sadly, they're not exactly positive in the short term.

And so it came to pass that the random forces that shape destiny and fate sent forth another heavenly reminder. Slightly larger than the state of Alaska, a craggy lump of rock slowly rotated over itself like a tumbling trained bear. Surrounding it, like a fleet of honor guard, was a variety of smaller jagged rocks. They tumbled, rolled, spun, and crashed into each other much like a troupe of acrobats.

The massive stone was moving incredibly fast, and amazingly, nothing was in its way as it trekked towards its destination. Around it, the little rocks weren't quite as lucky. Many got pulled into the gravities of passing stars, planets, and whatnot. The ambassador galloped past the jovian planets, the asteroid belt, and the orbital path of Mars. As it grew warmer from the increased solar radiation, it began to change. Space dust flew away as the ice that held it melted away. Its leading surface began to glow, then eventually the entire rock was bathed in soft light.

Before reaching the little mudball now known as Acmetropolis, a small miracle occurred. Perhaps the moon was protecting the mother that spawned her millennia ago. Perhaps it was merely jealously guarding its position as the only natural satellite. Maybe it was just dumb luck. Either way, as the monstrous caller from the depths of the universe entered the edge of Acmetropolis' gravitational pull, the moon was just in the right position to alter its course. Now, instead of crashing directly into the middle of the planet, it would simply skim across her upper atmospheres. About this time, in Acmetropolis' self-named capitol, in a semi-secret space military defense base, one young soldier stared horrified at his screen.

"Commander! Commander, **sir**! We have a..a..situation here, sir!"

The commander, a blue-haired, busty old woman in _pince-nez_ and a bustled army green colored skirt that reached the floor, tottered up to the panicky underling. "What? What's this now, sonny?"

"Sir! On the screen! It's huge! Massive! Just saw it-! Oh God!"

"Pull yourself together, soldier! I didn't get this old to baby-sit fools! Now speak up! Speak up!"

The young man pulled in a shaky breath that made the hairs on his chin tremble. "Okay, it's like this, see? I was just staring at the radar, minding my own business, when like, this **huge** scary blip appeared on the screen! Oh ho, the horror, man!"

The commander grimaced at him. He was fresh out of the academy, and had not been one of its brightest stars. She suspected that much of his brain was lost to the pungent herbal trips favored among today's youth-it at least accounted for his constant attraction to food. With a tired sigh, she peered over her frames to the screen.

"Oh My Word!"

Without a second to lose, she called out for an immediate emergency conference with the Acmetropolis Planetary Congress1. Then she commanded that every available resource begin monitoring the large blip's progress

"What is the problem, Commander?"

"I'm afraid it's a most dire situation. A large object is on a collision course with our world!"

There was a frantic rise in the murmuring of the senators on the view screen. At length, they returned their focus back to her.

"What is the object? A starship?"

"No," she replied as a teleboard was handed to her, "It's an asteroid, or a large comet. Roughly the…size of Alaska!"

"Can it be destroyed? A nuclear missile, perhaps?"

"I'm afraid not, senator. It's much too fast and much too close. Even if we could arm and fire off one in time, the radiation fallout would be almost as destructive as the leftover bits landing."

"What! How can we possibly be caught so unaware? What about the Deep Space Net program2?"

"Two words, gentlemen. Budget. Cuts."

Snarls and groans rolled over the congress at her accusatory tone. Before any new questions could arise, a feminine voice came over the PA system.

"Commander, we have established a trajectory."

"Where will it go?" The House speaker asked nervously.

"It appears, by our calculations, that it will pass a few miles above the United States of America3. We are still unsure if it will land, pass on, or explode."

"How soon?"

"Like, soon, man! Ninety minutes, tops!"

Everyone turned to stare in disbelief at the lanky recruit. Not so much at the given time frame, but that he was _actually_ working _at_ his terminal instead of cowering under it.

"What?" he asked n confusion.

"Never mind," The Speaker waved him off. "Commander, is there any hope of even a _partial_ evacuation?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. By the time an evac notice took effect, the populace would be into an all-out panic. They'll clog up all the highways, which will be detrimental to emergency and rescue crews(should we survive). There will be mass riots, murders, and mayhem. No, gentlemen of Congress, I believe nothing good will be accomplished by telling what we know."

An elderly woman with sharp, chiseled features stood up. "We are to just let them die? Think of the legal nightmares this will bring from the property damage alone!"

"You are assuming that we will survive _at all!_" an rotund man chastised her from across the room. Raised voices echoed from every corner of the Hall.

"ENOUGH!" The House Speaker finally cried. "Everyone, do what you must. Call your loved ones-hold them, if possible. Speak what may be your last words; reflect on what may be your last deeds. For only God above knows if we will last the night."

Chapter 3: Into the Light, Last Leg of the Journey 

It is the year 2772. Something cataclysmic is heading towards the tiny planet of Acmetropolis. And there is nothing anyone can do to stop it…

In Borasilica, Rev Runner dejectedly walked down the granite steps of the city-town's largest library. His rocket blades were slung over one shoulder, caked so badly with dried concrete they'd never work again. Cookie would be furious he'd never returned. He'd been lost in thought for two whole hours, trying to find meaning in his meaningless world. Only in the city could he brag that he was the fastest-saying such a thing back home would simply make him more of a loser than he already was4.

But living in the city meant doing things the city way, and that meant earning your keep and paying your own way. So Rev had come to the conclusion he'd simply have to beg for his job back (no doubt at a reduced wage, since Cookie paid him under the table.). As he turned towards the Qwik Wrap, it dawned on him that it was really rather very much brighter than it should be at 7 pm….

--o0o--

Tech whimpered slightly as he pulled another tiny shard of plexi-vinyl out of his muzzle before staring at his reflection in a side mirror of a parked hover car. Oh, he wasn't too upset that there'd been an explosion-it wasn't the first time something he'd sweated blood for had blown up in his face.

No, he was upset because with the loss of his scholarship came the loss of _any_ prospect of _any_ internship in _any_ major corporation. Then there was the problem of his mother. He swore that if she could turn time around, she'd fix it so that she'd never even seen the desert. All his life, she'd pushed him towards the glittering cities that edged the desert like a spiky crown on a sandy head.

"The cities are where your future's at, my darling." She'd coo every night as she gazed at them from any window in their modest house. "There are all the opportunities, all the places where your young mind can flower and bloom-and never wilt under oppressive traditions and penned-in imaginations."

Tech had always been mildly surprised that he'd even been entered, let alone completed, the Desert Education Plan5. He supposed even his mother wanted to 'fit in'. Well, maybe he could get a job as one of the science teachers. Oh yeah. Just wait till she heard **that** one!

" Poor thing. " Tech thought sympathetically. " She'll have a coronary. "

Tech was two thirds of the way back to his dorm room, when the sounds of terrified screams caused him to look skyward…

--o0o--

Slam was unfortunate enough to be the only one undistracted and facing the outside world in the entire wrestling arena. Confused and terrified, his relatively simple brain could not quite wrap itself around the nature of the fireball in front and above him. But he knew enough to know he was looking at trouble. **Deep** trouble.

"#$ Bleah-Blu-Blu-Bleah#$!" Slam's garbled speech could be interpreted roughly to "Get The Heck Outta Here!" Too bad no one heard him. Not that they would've understood him, anyway.

The roar was like several large trains rushing closer and closer. Being thirty stories high, the dome had a full view of the comet's white-hot aura as it passed over it. It seemed close enough to touch. For a moment, as Slam watched its awesome display, time seemed to be as still and as quiet as a moment between the stars. Then everything began to explode…

--o0o--

Ace leaned back with a sigh against the old concrete wall that kept most of the bad weather out of his meager one room apartment. Staring across the city from his little part of the firescape after a trying day had always been soothing to him, but today was proving to be an exception. He'd schmoozed his agent to get _her_ to schmooze the casting directors so he could get in as a stuntman. He really believed that this time, he was going to get a lucky break. More than anything, Ace Bunny wanted to be seen as a hero. But the closer he got, the farther it seemed to slip away. It was all like a bad dream…

"What da heck is dat!" he asked as a sound louder than anything he'd ever hear seemed to come from the other side of the building. His answer didn't want to keep him waiting…

--o0o--

Lexi growled to herself as she landed on the floor only two inches further from the fold-out table than the last time. After a good cry-fest, she'd re-applied her lipstick, straightened her skirt, and retied the green ribbon a little tighter on her ears.

Even though tryouts were now just a memory, She'd gone back to the gym determined to see what she could improve. Lexi had good hearing-even by rabbit standards-and she'd heard the complimentary things the red head and the man had said. But she was insecure enough in herself to think that maybe her over-zealous back-flip had cost her Catherine's coveted approval. So she reviewed her routine over and over again for two hours, but she just couldn't seem to control the power in her legs.

Exhausted, she collapsed to the floor. This wasn't getting her anywhere. She'd hoped that by being the first _anthro_ on the squad, she could build up confidence and skill. Lexi'd always wanted to be an Olympic gymnast, but her father was too frugal to spend the money, and her mother was terrified she'd get herself killed after the two of them had the misfortune of seeing Agatha Guustov's infamous floor routine6 live. So she practiced in secret by ducking in and out of training rooms after the paying students left. Highly energetic, she loved to leap and bound across the floor, pretending all the while there was a crowd roaring and throwing flowers at her feet.

Lexi got back up with the intention of reviewing yet again, but there seemed to be a commotion outside. She put the pompoms down and walked over to the outside doors. People everywhere were screaming, crying, praying. She pushed the door open fully and managed to snag a yellow canary as he flew past.

"Let Go! Let Go!" he cried.

"What's going on?" She asked him, stuggling to hold him long enough for an answer.

"Da end of da woild! Run!" With a mighty effort, he pulled free of her grip and beelined across the campus. Just then she heard the great noise, saw a blinding light. But worst of all was the sudden vertigo that washed over her…

--o0o--

Los Frisco: A vacationer's paradise. Beauty and Serenity abound. But not tonight.

Tonight panic was in every heart, terror in every soul. As luck would have it, a convention of high-ranking government officals was holding a 'conference' in the center of the metropolis. Really it was nothing more than a taxpayer-funded retreat. When the warning call from the capitol arrived, every last one of them poured out of the high priced luxury suites and demanded limo rides to the airport for first class rides out of America. The sudden shift was like a skier going down an unstable slope. The hotel staff, while not knowing what the danger was, realized first that something massive was heading this way fast, so they ran to the airports and train stations demanding a way out. Faster and faster the avalanche came down, growing wider and wider till it was unstoppable.

"Sheesh, can't a guy make an honest living without all this noise?" Duck yelled as he popped up from the empty pool drain, just in time to see his life flash before his eyes.

--o0o--

_1. Acmetropolis Planetary Congress: The governing body of the new planet. The laws are made here via democratic processes. There really is no president or king. A bill is introduced via a representative(who can be anyone at all with enough support), voted on, sent to the Acmetropolis High Supreme Court, the highest court there is, then if passed, ratified by the House Speaker._

2. Deep Space Net: Taking a page from Reagan's 'Star Wars' defense system, the government allocated the funding for the creation of a sophisticated satellite system to detect the oncoming prescence of large space objects with potential for destruction. The system wasn't very popular with the taxpayers, who saw it as frivolous. And **after** the tragedy, it was seen as utterly uselss despite its creators insistence it would've worked if properly funded beforehand.

_3. Continent names have not changed. Imagine the chaos in the post office if everyone simply had 'Acmetropolis, Acmetropolis' on their envelopes? No, Australia is still Australia, Africa is still Africa, and the USA is still home to this writer._

_4. In the years after the Road Runner, his tales began the stuff of legend. He eventually acquired something of a godly status. To say you are faster than him is the roadrunner equivalent of saying you're greater than Jesus Christ-it just isn't done. Like Jesus, Road is widely viewed as having never taken a mate nor siring offspring, despite there being strong proof to the contrary. This logic even confuses coyotes, who share 95 of the same belief system. _

_5. Desert Education Plan: A school system for coyotes. Ever see 'Big Fat Greek Wedding'? Remember how she went to 'Greek school'? Well, coyotes have the same thing. In order to preserve tradition and knowledge, young pups are taught everything from folklore, traditional medicine, traditional art-and everything possible about roadrunners._

_6. Agatha Guustov: Called the 'Swan of Switzerland', she was a leading finalist in the 2766 summer Olympics gymnastics. However, during an extraordinary floor dance routine, she miscalculated a triple-standing backflip and landed on her head with enough pressure to crack her vertebra. When her body hit the mattress, bone fragments pierced her sinal cord and she died nearly instantly.._


	4. Chapter 5: Afterbirth

Authoress Update: I am addicted to Sims2. They are running my life as I dominate theirs. Help Me!

Anyone guess who the 2 throw-ins were? Here's the answer to chapter 1's guest stars. In Lexi's scene, the young man was Fred and the red head was good old Daphne. Could u tell? Did u bother to try?

Y'know, I haven't got a great grasp of physics, so I really don't know if what I'm about to write could happen. But then again, this is a parallel universe, so anything goes, right? Then again, isn't the whole reason we exist due to the fact we're positioned exactly the right distance from the sun? Eh, whatever… Anyway, if I've made an obvious geophysical error-it's been 10 yrs since Earth Science and me were together-correct me, would ya?

Daisy Lou Bunny: "Hey, y'all!"

Lola Bunny: "We've been sent to tell all of you that All Standard Disclaimers Apply!"

Daisy Lou: 'That's Right!"

Lola: glare

Daisy Lou: glare

Lolamuttering: "Has-been."

Daisy Lou muttering: "Wannabe."

UPDATE: WHY DID U READ THAT LAST ONE? IT SUUUUCKED! XD lol it was very sweet of u to do so, though….

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 4: Afterbirth 

It would've been better if it hadn't exploded.

This would be the general consensus among scientists for generations to come. No matter how you spun it, no matter how positive the study results were, it just would have been better. But there was nothing to be done about it now…

As the meteorite sped by, its course slightly altered by the moon to only 'drive-by' Acmetropolis instead of making a direct hit, it pulled on the planet's gravity, speeding up it's rotation like a child playing with a lazy susan on the kitchen counter. The increased rotation wasn't strong enough to make anything fly off into the void, but nevertheless there was massive global structural damage. Volcanoes that lay dormant for centuries vomited lava in remarkable displays. Earthquakes created deep chasms as new mountain ranges rose from inner cities. The day shortened from roughly twenty-four hours to roughly twenty-two, and the gravitational pull on the surface grew stronger. The tallest buildings in normally earthquake free zones bowed and cracked, while their 'California-coded' counterparts somehow managed to resist the utter destruction.

Even worse, the comet's tug yanked the planet into an elliptical orbit between brother Mars and sister Venus. Eventually, it would be decreed to be a cataclysmic orbit, but only after a few millennia aligned Acmetropolis and either planet. In the meantime, the year grew from three hundred sixty-five to four hundred twenty-five.

The blue skies of innocence took on a more purpled hue due to an altered atmospheric chemistry. Luckily, the chemical balance wasn't altered so badly that everything would be killed off. But the delicate ozone layer took an **enormous** loss, almost sixty-five percent of it blew away with the solar winds. That which remained left 'swiss cheese' holes al over the atmosphere-the largest right along the North American continent.

All this was bad enough, but when it exploded a few thousand miles past Acmetropolis, the force shoved the hapless planet until her inclination went from thirty-three and a half degrees to more than fifty-seven! Now, her strange orbit and her awesome tilt combined to make her summers hotter and drier, her winters colder and longer. Massive ice packs would begin to form over the entire North Pole region-which was great for the remaining populations of polar bears. The South Pole, on the other hand, melted away, surrendering its secret caches. The land underneath, oppressed for so long, practically bounced up to take the ice desert's place.

The sunlight was weaker now, especially in the north. So much for six months of darkness-most of the region only saw the sun regularly when they filled up at the 'Sunny Smiles Gas-and-Go' station. And ironically, the moon-whose tug kept billions from dying, ended up being pulled apart by the opposing gravities of Acmetropolis and Mars.

Thousands of species of life died off, unable to cope with the new extremes. Some, like the emperor penguin and corn, were loudly lamented. Others, like mosquitos, got more fanfare by **leaving**. Cockroaches, of course, fared on.

Several of the more delicate _anthro sapiens_ also fell victim to this cruel state of affairs. Those that survived banded together and forgot nearly everything but survival. All red tape and ego stroking was tossed aside by the politicians-speed was of the essence if there was to be order(and a new election). Food plants and livestock were genetically altered so that they could cope and thrive. Breeders were given tax cuts and kickbacks and carefully monitored by new alphabet agencies1. New building materials were created, new designs were implemented, and soon skyscrapers filled city skylines once more. The government mandated the creation of technology that would lessen the effects of the new gravity, as well as new ways to offset the increased radiation in certain areas. The lack of regular sunlight damaged both the bodies and psyches of the populace, so it needed to be fixed too. The scientific community responded with Anti-Gravity Servos, a new type of plexi-vinyl that deflected much of the murderous radiation but concentrated the weakened light for better vitamin D production. Within a few years, it became all the rage to create wild and imaginative ways to combine the two into everyday things like clothes and cars.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. This all happens later, in the years and decades after that fateful day. Let's go back, shall we, to the hours after that awful explosion.

_1. Alphabet agencies: In case u weren't aware, this is Depression-era slang. It refers to the orginazations created by the government to create new jobs, increase financial security, et al. Some still exist, such as the FDIC. Ask your parents and grandparents for more. Do it. They're not just there to give u money, y'know._


	5. Chapter 6: A Tale of Two Bunnies

Authoress Update: I Nearly Killed My New Computer! I haven't been quite the same…still stressed and depressed. Sob!

For the record, the 2 extras in the Crowning chapter were Granny and Shaggy. Could u tell? Did u bother to try?

As I've said before-I have no idea what I'm doing. And all my creative bursts lately have been at work, far, far away from my computer. :(

Neffie: "I can't think of a darned thing to put her, can you?"

Road Runner: "Beep Beep! "Nope!" 

Neffie: " Groan …Dang writer's block. Sigh I'd hoped it wouldn't have to come to this…grabs gold and blue pompoms GIMMIE AN AYE!"

RR: "Beep!"

Neffie: "GIMMIE AN ESS!"

RR: "Beep!"

Neffie;: "GIMMIE A DEE!"

RR: "Beep Beep!"

Neffie: "GIMMIE AN AYE!"

RR: "Beep!"

Neffie: "WHAT DOES THAT SPELL?"

RR: "Beep Beep! Beep!"

Neffieblushes: "I ain't even gonna touch that one…"

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 5: A Tale of Two Bunnies 

"Huuuooouhhh!"

Lexi bent over the smooth, cold, white porcelain, retching. When she was finished emptying her stomach, she collapsed against the cracked tile wall. It was cold and clammy, a comfort against her feverish skin. Slowly, the nausea eased and her temperature regulated itself. But she felt heavy, like someone had thrown a lead blanket on her shoulders. No, more like that time she and some girlfriends went to the carnival and went for a whirl on the 'Devil's Pit'1. She really couldn't remember how she'd made it to the lavatory after witnessing the terrifying events just minutes ago-just that she'd felt like someone had thrown her into a blender and hit 'liquefy'.

Staggering to her feet, she flushed the toilet and made her way over to the sinks. A few splashes of cold water (and a vigorous session of rinsing and spitting) later, Lexi felt more like herself again. Tired and drained, but herself. Her lipstick was probably smeared all over her white fur. Hopefully it wasn't too bad. She looked up into the cracked mirror, and screamed like she had never screamed before…

Pink. Every square inch of the face looking back at her was pink in varying shades. From the tips of her ears to the hollow in her neck. From fingertip to shoulder. And every strand in between. Girlie-girl pink.

"No. No, no, no, that's not me!" Lexi wailed. She turned from the malicious visage and tore out of the lavatory, through the empty gym, and flung open the doors she had opened earlier. The doors that would lead her back to the real world. There she stopped as suddenly as if she'd hit a brick wall.

Before her, the immaculately manicured campus lay in ruins. Slabs of stone and concrete were strewn about the lawns and walkways. The central fountain was severely damaged by a statue of some old professor, but clean water still flooded outwards. It would be a boon for the survivors in the next few weeks, but for now it was nothing more than a growing mud puddle. The odors of smoke, gasoline, and other nasty burning things filled her nostrils. The sky was a psychotic display of colors, and terrified screams and siren wails filled her ears to a painful degree. Oddly though, the sirens seemed to be coming from far away…or at least, there weren't any emergency vehicles where she was…

"I'm dreaming…I'm dreaming. That's all, this is all just a bad dream. I'm just having a bad dream." Lexi kept up her mantra as she stumbled her way back to her dorm. In her fractured, numbed state of mind, it was the only destination she could focus on. If she just got back to her room, she'd see herself sleeping. Then she could make herself wake up, and she'd find nothing more dramatic than the possibility of being late for her morning class.

"I'm dreaming…Ahhhahahaha! I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming!"

Lexi turned around-that wasn't _her_ voice. Someone else was hysterically repeating her mantra. But who? Lexi moved towards the sound. It was so clear to her. But why? She was walking quite a distance from where she'd started. Except the voice was wheezy and conversational in tone. Surely it was a sound too low for Lexi to pick up, even though she'd always had good ears.

Finally, halfway to the stadium, Lexi spotted a blonde figure writhing under some twisted metal, sobbing. It was Catherine! Lexi quickly came out of her stupor as her mind grasped itself around the fact that someone needed help.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey." The rabbit cooed softly to the human as she stroked the blonde's contorted face. "Catherine? It's Lexi. Lexi Bunny? Do you remember me? It's okay now, it's okay. I'm here to help, okay? Don't cry, Catherine."

The blonde sniffed and hiccupped and stared up blinking at the pink creature for a moment. Then she wailed in despair. "OH, GAWD! This is like, a **total** punishment, isn't it!"

"What are you talking about Catherine?" She asked as she began to push at the metal sign that pinned the human's legs. It was heavy, but she found she could lift it a little if she tried her best.

"Gawd, I'm Sorry! I didn't let you win the tryouts, so now you're haunting my subconscious! I just wanted to be the best! It's all I haaave!"

Lexi paused. A wave of anger flashed over her. So it **hadn't** been her routine! It **hadn't** been her species! It was just politics as usual! But, just like a wave, it subsided. Catherine was helpless, hysterical-completely beyond her safety zone. A pitiful creature indeed. Suddenly, the cheer squad didn't seem to be important to her life anymore.

"Pull yourself out. I can't hold this forever. That's a girl. C'mon, Cath." The rabbit lifted Catherine's arm over her shoulder and tugged at the bruised waist. "Can you stand? Good. You're too heavy for me to carry, y'know! Er, that was a joke? Okay, now. We're going to go find a nice, safe place and relax, okay? That's a girl. We'll get you a nice cup of tea and we'll both have a nice shower and patch up those little cuts…"

Catherine leaned heavily over the smaller creature wordlessly, a bewildered expression on her face. Lexi struggled under the dead weight, but miraculously managed to get them both moving along and back to her dorm room. Funny, she absently thought as she bundled the blonde into some blankets and helped her sip some cold, strong tea, how helping someone else could take your mind off your own pains, your own fears. Maybe…Maybe this was the outlet she'd been looking for all along….

--o0o--

The screams weren't stopping. They bounced off the walls, echoed thru the alleyways, and mixed with the rumbles of distant explosions and infernos that reddened the night.

_"Why can't they just shut up!"_ Ace snarled internally as he pulled a stupefied doe out of the middle of the street seconds before a heavily-laden ambulance screamed through. Fifteen minutes after the explosion, Greater Los Angeles2 looked like a sadist director's version of _Dante's Inferno_. The shockwaves from the explosions blew out the plexi-vinyl windows of the dozens of skyscrapers. The deadly shards fell from the sky, with bloody results. Metal frames twisted as the rotation sped up. Cracks and fissures formed in the heavily faulted region. Highways collapsed, crushing hover cars between the layers. One horrified journalist, in a later interview, would tell how in the morning light, one strip of heavily populated causeway reminded him of an overloaded jelly sandwich-matter of all types oozing from the sides. Light poles, telephone poles and transformers fell over as the ground heaved, dragging down snapping, sparking wires with them. Scalding steam and water exploded out of sewer holes, water taps, and toilets. The famous LaBrea tar pits also boiled and exploded, launching globs of the thick molten goo for miles. Landscaping caught fire and quickly began devouring what it could. The heat caused chemical tanks to explode. And throughout it all were the screams of the trapped, the dying, and the damned.

Ace had been 'fortunate' enough to live on the outskirts of G.L.A. Nearly all the buildings in his neighborhood were concrete, stone, short, and had little in the way of flammable landscaping. Even so, there was quite a deal of damage from the earthquakes and exploding plumbing.

Ace had been on his fire escape when the world ended. The shockwave slammed him into the concrete wall behind him. He'd hit his head hard-he remembered that much. He figured he'd gotten a concussion-why else would his eyes be burning, or that everyone he came across had some sort of glow around them?

But that wasn't enough to keep Ace down. Innocent, frightened people were in trouble. He was still capable, he was still compassionate. So, with little thought to his own safety, he ran _towards _the infernos, stopping here and there to rejoin a lost tyke with his parent, help load an elder onto a packed truck, or pull a citizen, like the doe, to safer settings. It was exhilarating. Like being the star of the action film he'd always dreamed of doing. He was the hero! The world needed him! He was its only hope!

"You thar! What's yer name, varmint?" Ace turned to see a short man with a massive red handlebar mustache standing on a tank that was slowly rolling towards him.

"Ace! What's it to ya, doc?"

"We need capable hands, varmint! You reckon you can find yer way to Hollywood an' Vine?"

Ace blinked at the question. After all, he **was** an actor! How could he not? "Eh, yeah doc. I think I kin manage dat!"

"Then get'cher fluffy tail over there, rabbit!"

"And do what?" Ace was confused-had he missed a line? _Wait, _his self-preservation instincts told him_, this isn't a gig! Remember you could die doing this!_

_"Ta hell witcha's."_ He thought back.

"Help, Gol'durnit! Do something! We got people dying in this here city, and I can't get any more dag-gumbed troops in cuz ev'rything's gone ta kingdom come! Get as many survivors as ya can onto them thar rescue vehicles! **NOW** **GIT**!"

Ace nodded and ran off, getting closer and closer to the raging fires of the business district. With every step he lost himself into the role he preened in secret since he was a toddler. Ace Bunny, Action Hero. He idly thought of his ancestor and his star on the Walk of Fame. Would it survive the night? Would he? Would any of them?

His eyes burned more now than before. They watered and he wiped his sleeve against them. Was it from the intense heat? The chemical vapors in the air? Ace tried hard to ignore it. He was needed. People needed him, they were depending on him. A strange sensation of contentment, of fulfillment, washed over him. The missing puzzle piece of his life had just exposed itself, and he wanted to hold onto it forever. But damn these itchy, watery, burning eyes….!

"GaaaRRghhhH!"

Ace's eyes suddenly felt like they really _were_ on fire! Instinctively his hands lifted to cover them, but almost as soon as they made contact with his face he pulled them away. They felt like they were being burned-he could smell the singed fur. All he could see was red! No shapes, no shadows, just a solid red light wherever he turned. He heard explosions all around him, just feet away. Somehow he knew, he knew he was the cause of them. With as much strength as he could muster, he forced his eyes shut. Gasping and sweaty, he forced himself to meditate, to focus, to clear his mind. After what seemed like another eon, he dared to crack one eyelid. When he saw the asphalt below him, he heaved a breath of relief.

He didn't know or understand what happened. He didn't care at the moment either. There was no time to figure it out now anyway. A block away there were innocent civilians who needed direction, a Shepard to guide them to safety. And Ace Bunny, Action Hero, would be damned if he turned away from his duty…

'_Devil's Pit': I'm pretty sure most of you are familiar with this ride. This is the centrifuge type of ride where you're spun so fast u stick to the wall, and heaven help you if someone else loses their lunch. And for the record, no, I've never been on one, but I remember watching people on it at Fantasy Island…. _

_Greater Los Angeles: Obviously, what we now know as LA, but more. GLA refers to LA proper and most of Southern California. _

Gaa! Ok, was that too much? Too choppy? I hated the last version. I should never have posted it. I don't know what I was thinking. Then again, maybe u liked it better? Lol, I dunno. But I gotta get to the others now…


	6. Chapter 7: Tales of Sea and Sky

Authoress Update: Ok, now aren't I the idiot? Here I am, complaining about how it seemed iffy that the planet of Acmetropolis should survive when it's knocked out of orbit. My bad. Maybe if I was actually awake that early on a sat.morning, I would have realized that Zadovia claims it was knocked off it's axis, not orbit. Again, my bad. And none of u pointed it out to me lol. Either you were all totally caught up with what I was doing, or y'all were just as tired as me those mornings!

Either way, what's done is done. In all, it makes no less sense than a planet with advanced technologies carrying on as normal after a massive meteor crashed into the middle of the ocean (I believe the 'Beginnings' episode is meant to take place 1 yr after the meteor, rt?)

Neffie: "I'm A Pumpkin Pie!"

Psychologists: "We've Got A Live One Here!"

Neffie: "WhOooOooooo!"

(Really folks, I'm running out of ideas! A little help?)

A.S.D.A

means flashback

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 6: Tales of Sea and Sky 

Danger Duck stared at his hands, turning them over and over. Staring for the thousandth time at the brilliant orange feathers that covered them. From his wrists to his elbows the orange flamed out like electricity. The center of his chest also bore a bright orange oval, edged in the same electric pattern. But he didn't know that _yet_-his midsection had been thoroughly bandaged.

His mind drifted as it tried to make sense of it all. Three hours ago he was a humble pool boy who wanted more out of life, just like everyone else. Three hours ago his world was boring, but safe. Now lounging on a couple of old faded bedsheets in the lobby of a Motel 6, he wondered if he could ever feel that way again.

It had taken the better part of an hour to drain the largest pool, the 'kiddie pool' (as he called it) so he could access the tunnels that housed the filtration units. Technically, he was supposed to drain every drop of water from all the pools before attempting any kind of chemical sanitation, but that took too long for his liking. The managers were more than willing to look the other way, since there were large numbers of complaints by the high-priced clientele if the pools stayed closed for too long. Only when an inspection was threatening was he ever written up for the corner cutting. In five years, that had happened twice. So he felt pretty sure he was safe as used the overloaded key ring to enter the grate. In the discreetly placed caretakers' room (accessible only after draining-Duck was never sure _why_), he pulled on the bright orange, water-resistant, HazMat suit and squeezed down the narrow tunnel. On his back was a large tank of disinfectant. He hated doing this! Stupid kids! And stupid parents for having them!

The suit was a joke. It was older than Duck, probably older than the hotel itself, and in some places it was worn thin enough that he could feel the disinfectant dribbling down his leg and soaking into his feathers. But at least the respirator worked. A couple of hours later, he finished spraying the last of the screens and pulled off the nearly empty tank.

Now that he was finished and the underground labyrinth was completely silent, Duck realized he was dizzy and…'off'. He couldn't quite describe what was wrong-he was just dizzy and felt heavy, like when one has a severe case of pneumonia. The respirator must not have been as good as he thought. The hotel owners were so cheap they probably slipped in some expired hydro-filters1 to keep from buying new ones. He cocked his head as the sound of screaming drifted down the pool grate. A sense of indignation welled up in his feathered breast.

"_What, are they having a party up there **now**? Doesn't anybody know anything? The pool area's supposed to be closed while I'm cleaning it_!" Deep inside, he knew that the big-name guests only had to slip a few extra dollars to his managers to get that rule bent. Status and power were the currency of Los Frisco. He didn't mind it-he just wished some of it would get spread his way.

So he tugged off his hood and stormed up the ladder, snarling and cursing all the while. He wasn't feeling well, and he was still peeved about having to clean the pool in the first place. And he was tired of being pushed around and ignored and…and….and everything! He gathered up a little bit of a speech as he climbed the ladder to the pool floor. One to shame the populace with at the mere thought of thwarting the potential of the great Danger Duck.

"Sheesh, can't a guy make an honest living without all this noise? 

Duck sighed and leaned against the wall. He was tired again. He felt weak. And not just the kind you feel when you're ill. Sure, he still felt ill-who wouldn't?-but the weakness of someone without any control. He wished someone had invented a memory remover. But then, he guessed a lot of people felt that way today...

"Well, Quackers! Ya still here? Thought you'd stick around this time, eh?"

Duck grimaced at the old, nearly toothless man and didn't reply. In the hours he'd been there, Duck had managed to end up in the oddest places, and he didn't know how. All he knew was that he'd close his eyes, drift a little, and then when he happened to open them, he'd be somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. The stressed out staff was annoyed with him-they claimed he was a sleepwalker, a menace, a troublemaker. Duck vehemently disagreed, convinced someone in the building was drugging him up and dragging him around, and why were they picking on him when such a demon was running amok?

"I'm **not** a sleepwalker." Duck said to the bearded, gap-toothed man.

"Sher, yer not, Quackers! Heh hehehe!"

"And for th'last time, **my name is not Quackers**!"

The old man chuckled and nodded. Then he yawned, snuggled against the wall, and began to snore. Loudly. Duck stared at him, but that had no effect, so he rolled over, closed his eyes, prayed he'd just stay where he was, and entered a troubled sleep.

He was opening the grate. He was all set to rant and rave till everyone at the hotel was pleading to be back in his good graces again. Maybe he'd let them carry him off on their shoulders. Maybe he'd have them kiss his webbed toes.

"Sheesh, can't a guy make an honest living without all this noise?"

His voice echoed, the question repeating and fading away as everything went into slow motion. A black wall was moving towards him, a dull roar filling his ears. Then the wall was over him, swallowing him, dominating him. Water. The wall was made of water. The water felt bad. It tasted bad. It burned his skin and lungs and the back of his throat. He remembered rolling, rolling along wherever the massive force willed him to go. He was nothing to it, a nobody. There weren't going to be any cheers-he was going to end up a forgotten corpse nibbled away by strange fish at the bottom of the sea.

"_No! No! I don't want to die like this! I'm scared! I don't want to go! You can't make me go!"_

Images floated up in his head. His mother, scolding him for pressing all the elevator buttons. His father, screaming in a panic after a waterfall of water cascaded down the stairs. The joy of seeing his soggy diaper return from the mysterious toilet. The red-caped frame of Duck Dodgers, gallantly posing on the idea of a successful mission. Duck watched as his hero slowly turned to face him, and shake his head in disgust. Then all the images faded away…. 

The next thing Duck saw was a bunch of people in light blue masks shouting above him. His body was bandaged and already under repair, but his ego was not. Soon after being unceremoniously plopped onto the spot he currently occupied, a group of grungy Marines came in, asking for able bodied help. Many were eager to comply, despite their concussions, internal bleeding, or amputated limbs.

Duck had writhed, moaned, and thrashed until they left. He could not bring himself to go, yet he felt utterly disgusted with his actions. He was a lost little boy looking for someone to chase away the boogeyman. He was no coward. To be called _that_ would be an upgrade.

From his…excursions, he'd pieced together what had happened, more or less, from the snippets of conversations people had around him. A meteor had exploded just outside the planet, and it had sped up the planet's rotation. As such, the water in the ocean sloshed about like when one scoots about in the bathtub. First, massive tsunamis crashed over the islands on the Far East, reaching as far as central Asia! Then it recoiled, and tsunamis flooded the Americas with a mile high wall of water. The 'well-timed' explosion in the stratosphere seasoned the already lethal brew of household cleaners, oil, propane, enriched plutonium, manure, and death with hunks of irradiated debris.

It was this blend Duck had been immersed in. Carried along in the breakneck currents, he would have died, save for one lucky break-a light pole snagged in a pile of stacked hovercars in a narrow alley. The light just happened to be upside down as Duck swirled by, becoming a sort of fish hook. It caught the drowning bird by his neckline, lifting the bird above the rapids. There he swung precariously, until a rescue plane spotted his prone form and took him to the makeshift hospital, where he now slept fitfully.

"MR. DUCK!"

The little black duck bolted upright to find himself staring into the pinched face of a very angry looking nurse. "What are you doing here **_again_**! This area is restricted to **staff only**!"

Oh, Hell….

--o0o--

The Gambling District. That loosely defined area in the upper southwestern United States where thick jungles grow. But these jungles are made of buildings and miniature monuments glitter with the light from dozens of neon flowers; where instead of birdsong, the air is raucous with bells and sirens, of jingling coins hitting the payout trays, of fountains and dealers and gamblers and all the other things that make a casino a world unto its own.

But the jungles are unnaturally silent. Silent, that is, save for the panicked throngs looking for safety. Like any poor beast removed from its natural environment, there was much confusion as the status quo fell apart. Nothing was sacred. Safety was the least of their concerns. If they were going to die, why not in that Lexus that guy next to you had? Never mind that he was still _using_ it-just pull him out of the way. The casino security threw you out for being a public nuisance? Well, it's the end of the world-show her how much of a nuisance you can be.

In the center of one section, not far from the Las Vegas region stands a collection of towers in various stages of despair. This is (was) the Sports Center, the complex of arenas for contests of strength, skill, cunning, and dubious refereeing. It wasn't uncommon for great brawls to develop when a 'sure thing' suddenly fell through at the last second. It was so common; in fact, security only sent the recommended amount of police if an 'A-list' star was in town. This being the gambling capital of the world, it was also common to hear of hard-core veterans placing bets on the star's survival!

But now, strangely, there was an almost other-worldly silence. The plexi-vinyl domes were cracked or else completely decimated. In one, people were strewn about like rag dolls. Debris lay everywhere. But in one spot, there was a scuffling noise, and clouds of dust testified to a life still living…

Raising a mighty war cry, Slam broke free from the thick concrete walls that had enclosed him moments before. He took in great, gulping breaths of air as his body relaxed slowly. He was slightly claustrophobic, the result of too many years in tiny cells. Slam was orphaned at an early age, and the home he was interred in was little prepared for his exuberant tendencies. When he turned sixteen, he'd been duped into believing a man named 'Rocky' was his only friend. Rocky's 'friendship' consisted of him telling Slam where, when and who to use his Tasmanian testosterone on. Slam felt uncomfortable in this, but was too lonely to object for long.

And where did it get him? A three year stint in lockdown. Nineteen hours a day in a five by five foot room, four hours pressing vanity plates for gold-collar2 yuppie teens and an hour for exercise. When the warden offered him entry into a work-release program, he gladly accepted. That was when he found his niche-Professional Wrestling. Imagine a job thrashing the heck out of your opponent, and getting paid! And it was legal! For two years he worked hard to impress the WWF, scrabbling his way up the ladder of notoriety in no-name rooms with other no-name wrestlers. Tonight was to be his big break. All he had to do was ignore that little voice that loved to win. The one that always niggled him that was he was doing wasn't on the level. In the end, he couldn't do it. He wanted in the big leagues, but he wanted to be good. He never wanted to see the inside of a jail again, and what the Blue Thunder wanted was wrong.

Slam grunted and brushed the dust off his costume. Slam was colorblind; otherwise he would've really been amazed that his fur was a lovely shade of violet. But he was, so he didn't care. He was alive and apparently intact. And somehow he'd managed to break thru solid concrete in five minutes. Now **that** was interesting.

"Uhnn…S-someon there…?"

Slam perked up at the raspy, quiet question. It was coming from the ring. The referee laid in the center, in a small pool of rich, thick, red blood. Growing from his abdomen was a triangular piece of plexi-vinyl. "Help…."

Slam walked around the man in confusion. His was not the most intelligent of species, but he knew that the man needed more help than he was capable of. Problem was there didn't seem to be anyone else around that was.

"Please, son….give us a hand…."

"What Slam do?"

The small man weakly gestured to the foreign object. Dubiously, Slam pulled it out. Fresh blood spurted from the deep gash, but the old man sighed and nodded in relief.

"Help me up…I need to sit up…."

The purple Devil easily picked the broken man and carried him gently over to a folding chair still standing upright.

"Heeehh…you're a good boy, kid. I know what you did….Gasp you had 'im…fair and square. You're a good boy…..good boy…..good boy…"

Slam stared long after the ref's chest stopped heaving. The last, barely audible words echoed in his ears. Now one had _ever_ called him 'good boy'. It was somehow…somehow cleansing. Somehow strengthening. A purpose. A light. A way.

Slam Tasmania was not a mindless thug-no, not any longer. He left the dead man, the dome, the tower, the vice-riddled district behind that day. He was going to be a "Good boy" and help forge a new world. A world where people were happy, and shared stories and food and cages were for carrying materials. Slam Tasmania was going to be a Hero.

_Hydro-filters: OSHA-certified filtration systems for respirator masks. A specially made mesh filter fits inside the standard vents you see on modern respirators. The packets are filled with a water-based gel that helps convert 'bad' air into a more breathable form. They are extremely effective; however they last for a much shorter time than traditional filter, and are pricier. As such, businesses that are required to supply them often eke out every last one they have._

_Gold Collar: If you're unfamiliar, this is a new delineation in the job market bracket. You know that white collar refers to businessmen, while blue collar refers to those who work in factory settings? Well, gold-collar, as I understand it, refers to the new wave on teens that work McJobs yet wear Jimmy Choo's and Versace bags. _

Ok, this took a little longer because a) I didn't want to run in the same errors I had with the last time, and b) Slam gave me grief. He's hard for me cuz he's not my favorite. But I hope y'all are happy with what I wrote for him.


	7. Chapter 8: No Rhyme Or Reason

Authoress Update: Well, ok! The masses have spoken! And apparently, you all want more! Shocking!

So, here is (hopefully) the last of our angsty chapters. In theory, the next chapters should lean towards the action category.

Authoress Rant on the Show Itself (SPOILER!): What exactly are the continuity people smoking? If you saw 'Mallory Mastermind (or whatever), at the end they show our crew lounging on the beach in casual gear. In pre-meteor colors! Now, that would have been fine and dandy if, when poor Rev stopped pedaling, it faded away like the beach hologram. You can't convince me they are all wearing colored plastic from head to toe! Get real! What do they need their regular colors for anyway? According to the show so far, they are the only anthropomorphic beings on Acmetropolis! They're gonna need more than a pair of thick glasses to hide in this town! Man, every time u think there's gonna be a little tiny bit of char development, they ruin it.

Yakko: "I'm Yakko!"

Wakko: "I'm Wakko!"

Dot: "And I'm…Hey wait! Didn't we already do this bit?"

Yakko: "What? You never heard of syndication?"

Wakko: "Hey guys! Does anyone else smell pancakes?"

….

A.S.D.A

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 7: No Rhyme or Reason 

Back in the fractured city of Borasilica, five minutes after the explosion, Rev Runner was experiencing a brand-new sensation– Nausea. Roadrunners aren't built for vomiting. Their stomachs are built small so that if it became necessary to run from danger (which was quite often), the stomach contents wouldn't weigh them down more than necessary. Runners ate lots, but little. Regurgitation was possible only during the short time frame between a chick's hatching and its final control of its tiny, spindly leg muscles. And even that used a specialized section of the esophagus, not the stomach.

However, as new to the experience as Rev was, he was quick to recognize this was **not** the best way to spend an afternoon. His wing-arms scrunching his shirt, his eyes clamped shut, breathing labored and knees clenched together, Rev felt his stomach flip a few more times before agreeing to an uneasy truce with his brain. Slowly (for him), his torso muscles relaxed and he opened his eyes. His mind was racing, as was his heart. And it was hard to slow his breathing down to what he was used to. And was it his imagination, or were his feathers red? Really, really, **really**, red?

Before he could gather his thoughts, a deep rumbling crawled up the broken asphalt and up his long, thin legs like a fuzzy caterpillar. A woman's cry-"**LOOK OUT!"** caught his attention and made him turn his head nearly all the way around1 towards her high-pitched screams.

Damaged beyond repair from all the seismic activity, one of the tall, whitewashed buildings was collapsing. It fell down on itself, floor by floor, each reduction in size growing louder and louder. Boom! BOOM! BOOM!

From far, far away, it would have appeared to be just so much dust showering down, and relatively harmless. But for those poor souls caught underneath, it was indescribable horror. The thick, choking dust was exhumed with each floor's last breath. Chunks of debris rained down on the unsuspecting, cloaked in a darkness more terrifying than midnight on Halloween in Jason's swamps. The only light was the occasional fireburst as some chemical mixed with the shorting electricity or the broken Bunsen burners. And then the dust cloud then spread out towards the edges of Borasilica, to engulf the frightened populace.

All around Rev, people ran for their lives, screaming, weeping, and coughing. For several moments, the young runner was too dumbfounded to move as the demon-cloud threatened to claim him too. It _looked_ evil. Always the imaginative one, he envisioned a gaping mouth and piggy eyes smirking hungrily at him, could _just_ hear the deep, rumbling laughter echoing from within. Just then, some ancient survival instinct kicked his brain- _"Move, Dummy!"_

Shaking his head a little, he turned and tore off, focused only on the mantra that screamed in his head-_Run! Run!_ Quickly, the adrenaline high diminished, and he faltered, praying that he'd gotten away from the worst of it. Sitting on the still-warm desert sun, Rev shifted towards the city—

--Which was now a tiny blip on the horizon? No way. Rev rubbed his eyes hard, blinked several times, and looked again. NO WAY!

"Howtheheckdidthathappen?" He whispered. He pulled a funny face. "Whatthe-Whattheheck'shappenedtomyvoice? AndhowdidImanage-

togetallthewayouthere?"

Dropping his head, he realized he'd been right earlier-his feathers, this morning a beautiful azure blue, were now the scarlet red of youth2. "Suck!" He wailed unhappily. He'd never had a real social life before, but now he'd never get a date! Not if everyone thought he was just a really tall fledgling! A crystalline tear sneaked down his cheek as he allowed himself to wallow in self-pity for the moment. Then a thought struck him.

"HeyIwonderwhathappenedtoallthosepeople?"

Should he go back? _Could_ he go back? After all, he was still unsure how he even managed to get this far! Had he somehow triggered one of the students' experiments? Or…was it all him? Nervously, he stretched out into a basic runner's start position and conjured up a screaming crowd, a taciturn referee with his gun drawn and stopwatch ready, and to his right, the famous 'Purple Bullet'.

The referee cried "**Go!**" and shot off a flare. Rev took off once more, but this time he was tuned in to his body. There was a difference. Oh yes, there most definitely was. The scenery blurred into little streaks of color-it was impossible to define a single thing, at any rate he would be way past it by the time his mind could wonder. It was a lot like running blindfolded. But somehow, he knew exactly where he was. Something deeper than instinct was guiding him, keeping him safe from the rocks, canyons, and debris that would cause him grievous harm.

By counting his heart beats and comparing them to each stride, he figured he was running a three day drive in fifteen minutes! His inhalations had become deeper and longer. He was drawing in much more oxygen than normal. That explained why his muscles weren't screaming yet.

He loved it. By _O'kulumbo_'s beard, he loved it! Every runner was born, the legends said, to chase the wind3. Never before had a runner actually _caught_ it. But today, Rev knew that he had done the impossible. He had surpassed his ancestor! Stretching his stride a little wider, he giggled and reveled in the feel of his feathers in the air stream.

But of course, to run this fast means you can only get to the end that much sooner. And lo, here he was, at the edge of the city he once called home. Dust still permeated the air, making visibility difficult. Moans of pain weaved through it like ghosts, issued from the poor souls who could never have been fast enough. At once, the young runner felt ashamed. Here he was, exulting in his newfound speed, and all these poor people were fighting for their lives. He'd left them behind.

_"It's not your fault!"_ that little voice protested. _"You were just trying to escape! They never thought about you! They were trying to save themselves! It's the natural way of things!"_ Deep down, his heart disagreed. _"There are good people as well as bad. It's not your job to judge them all, nor forsake them all."_ The voice, he noted, sounded an awful lot like his mother.

Spying a group of officers, he zipped over to them. "Excusemesirs, butisthereanytthingIcandotohelp? ImeanIknowCPRandwell, youseeI-somehowgotreallyfast! ImeanI_know_roadrunnersarealwaysfastbut-I'm_reallyreally_fastsoifthere'sanythingIcando, likegetsuppliesormay-bedeliveramessages? Yea! See, IusedtobeadeliveryboysoI'vegotallsortsofexperience-"

"How th'hell let this freak lose?" Growled a square-jawed commander.

"Never seen him before, sir!"

"Heythat'snotnice! I'mjusttryingtohelp! Imean, hello! I'mthefastest-thingontwolegs, I'llbet! Younedme, andIwannahelp!"

"Private! Get this thing over to one of the medical centers immediately and find out what the hell he's hopped up on!"

"**Yes** **Sir**! Right away, Sir!"

The private in question detached himself from the group and moved towards the young bird. Rev was flustered and infuriated-how dare they accuse him of being on drugs! Here he was, just trying to help out, and all they wanted for him to do was get out of his sight. It was just like always. It never changed. The taunts, the harassment. The idea that his kind had nothing but asphalt between their ears. Visions of being chased by biker gangs, of having his pay docked, and of mischief-minded students playing 'keep-away' with his possessions. His eyes glittered with rage, and the air seemed to grow malevolent around him. The soldier reached out to grab his arm….

"Catch. Me. If. You. Can." He hissed. The boy blinked, and then again. The red roadrunner was no longer to be seen.

Rev ran to the only place he could think of-home. It had been almost three years since he had last lived there, but in the light of everything that happened, it didn't seem to make a difference. The latest in the Road Runner's lineage lived in a 'natural' cave. Natural in this case meant that it at one time been a rock formation with a natural cave. Other rooms, windows, et al had been blasted in at a later time. Such formations were very rare-Rev and his family were very lucky to live in one that was beautiful as well as large. Most other runners in his neighborhood lived in adobe constructs. Yet another reason Rev had had a miserable childhood.

But this time was different. This time he was looking forward to seeing all those naysayers and give them 'what-for', just like he did with the soldiers. Within seconds, he bisected the town with a cloud of sand and stood in front of his own front door. It still looked solid. The rock had been there for thousands of years, and no little meteor was going to tell it do otherwise.

"Mom? Gear? OhLittleGee-ear!" Rev bounced around the cavernous rooms happily. How excited his little sister would be to see him, and to see him run so fast! She'd been heart-broken when he left. He'd promised he'd visit her lots, but there was never enough money. He'd call and feel his heart tear every time he had to tell her he'd miss another birthday, or track meet. His mother would always tell him that his room was still there, but he'd always refused angrily, saying he was happy where he was. But of course he wasn't. He missed the desert, missed his family, and missed the open air and warm sunshine everywhere. But now he could have the best of both worlds! He could work in the city, and then be home in time for supper and a story before bed! Rev considered his mother the finest storyteller alive, and he'd really missed her soft voice and the fervent belief she put into each and every myth and legend.

"Mom? Hello? Comeonthisisn'tfunnyanymore." A sick feeling was rising up from the pit of his stomach. That something, that same vibe that kept him safe on his journey here, was pulling him outside. But something felt oh-so-wrong about it.

" Mom? Momma? Gear? Areyououthere ?" He had switched from English to standard Beep, as if the change in language would somehow help shake the foreboding and they would just materialize in the creeping night.

. Tentatively, he crept out into the sandy expanse that was the backyard. Only naturalized plants were allowed here-Rev grew up in the only house in the Four Corners area that had never known a blade of grass. The cheap aluminum patio furniture was strewn about the cracked tile. The little grill pit still stood, smoldering briquettes waiting for marinated material to char. Rev smiled thinly as he recalled the time his tail feathers had gotten too close, and how baby Gear had beeped with delight as he had panicked.

Rev gingerly picked up one of the lightweight chairs-it toppled right back over. The umbrella was blown out, and the canvas was shredded in areas. With a shrug, he lifted a long leg over it and headed out for the sandy garden paths beyond. The ancient Saguaro was unrecognizable; it was in so many pieces. Rev remembered watching as tiny owls, and occasionally, Owls, raised noisy families year after year in its worn holes. The night birds knew there were few safer places, and so never heaved their pellets there (much to the neighbors' chagrin), and the Owls would occasionally leave an extra lizard for the fledglings4.

Carefully, he crept around the outcropping his mom had always called the mountain's 'foot'. It was getting late, and there was, by this time, very little light left. Behind this lay his mother's pride and joy-the rock garden. She maintained it zealously, almost religiously, prattling to the Live-Forever's ("they're very good at secret-keeping" she told him), and pointing out the best looking grubs and ants to her beloved chicks. And when they were full and completely bored, he and Gear would play tag in the zigzagging lanes of cobblestones.

He gasped at what he saw now. Rocks of varying sizes (mostly 'large') were lying about. _"Theymusthavebeenknockedoffthetopwhentheseismicwaves fromthmeteorpassedover." _. The Live-Forever's were crushed. It was too dark to see most of them, but the lanes close to him were damaged enough he could take an educated guess.

Rev felt sick again. His home had been hurt. An odd sentiment, to be sure, to feel sympathy for an inanimate place. But this was his home, and his mother's, and his grandparent's, and so forth for generations, maybe even since the Road Runner's time, and it was hard not to attach emotions to it. It was where he learned to walk, to run, his history, and more. He had left to prove he didn't need this place. But he could never stay away forever. He just wanted to learn what he was capable of. But maybe he was just being self-absorbed and stupid.

Rev shook his head in regret and turned to go back inside. No one was out here. A slight wind caressed his cheek gently-fondly? - And out of the corner of his eye, saw a flicker of movement. Eyes wide, he was next to it in a second.

"No……" Rev hiccupped as his knees weakened and gave way. "No…nonononononononono!"

His fists angrily pounded at the boulders as he sobbed uncontrollably. The night was starless, as thick black clouds of smoke and dust billowed like a cloak between him and them. On the horizon, red haze indicated burning homes and businesses. A few feet away, the last of the briquettes sputtered. As the last glowing ember slipped away, Rev Runner threw his tear-stained head back, and screamed.

--o0o--

Tech 'Egghead' Einstein Coyote, super-genius, groaned loudly as he returned to the waking world, opening bleary eyes to a fuzzy purple sky. His head was throbbing as he struggled into a seated position on the broken ground that was once a beautifully paved road. Closing his amber eyes again, he inhaled carefully and did a mental check of himself. No, nothing seemed to feel broken, and he felt no dampness that would indicate bleeding of any sort. Woozy, but that was to be expected if he had sustained a head injury. Rubbing his noggin gingerly exposed no sign of external damage.

Carefully, Tech hoisted himself onto his feet and brushed the dirt off his hands. It was quiet. Awfully quiet, especially when one considered that the permanent population of Borasilica alone numbered in the thousands. It was eerie. Tech looked around as he made his way carefully towards a dust-laden lump. He rather wished he hadn't decided against wearing shoes this particular morning5. Gently he bent over the lump and brushed some of the filth away. His long muzzle wrinkled at the mangled mess underneath. Now that he thought about it, he should've guessed from the smell…but then, he was a little disoriented still. Sadly, Tech shook his head. There was no one around him….alive, at least. Then he blinked and did a double take at his hands, holding them splayed before his face. The dull brown was now a soft green. Unusual, to say the least. Hell, it was downright freaky! Was he dreaming? Was his mind fracturing?

"Ok, let's review, shall we?" He took a deep breath, as if this was just another one of his tutoring classes. "My name is Tech E. Coyote. I am twenty-four years old, the only son of Nascha and the late Dr. Anoki Coyote. I am a grad student at the University at Four Corners-"

He smirked wryly before continuing. "Check that. I _was_ a student at the University at Four Corners. My latest experiment's…premature demise caused my expulsion from said institution. I was walking along _this _street when a large atmospheric phenomenon passed overhead. The result of which was massive seismic, atmospheric, and meteorological activity."

As he began talking, he began to pace. As he continued to fit the missing pieces together, his feet turned him to the 'obvious' destination: his dorm room and personal lab roughly eighteen blocks away. All the while, he never looked up or around, allowing his canine instincts to pick the quickest, safest routes.

"Unfortunately, this seismic activity caused ground destabilization. Ground destabilization, I'd wager, is what caused the Fundlethorp building to implosively collapse. Tragic." Although it was a word spoken without emotion, Tech was very upset. The Fundlethorp building was where his first school experiment exploded, and where he had managed to stave off an earlier expulsion attempt by saving the faculty from a 'misguided' freshman. "I was caught up in the dust cloud; I remember zero visibility and almost as much breathable air. Then I remember feeling a blunt force on the top of my head…"

He trailed off at this point-there was nothing left to remember. With a sigh, he looked up to find himself in front of 'his' building. "At least _you're_ still standing."

Cautiously, Tech walked up the three flights of stairs (he wasn't going to test his luck on the elevator) and opened the door to his single-occupancy room. Actually, it was a double-occupancy converted just for him. Having a mother with determination (and major contacts) could be useful at times. '_Home sweet home'_, he thought as he glanced around. Much was broken, but most was merely disheveled. The shorter bookshelf had broken, and the taller one that was next to his bed had vomited its contents all over. Plaster from the ceiling snowed down lightly. The windows were blown out-so was his fish tank. Desiccated fish lay wide eyed on the floor.

"Ohhh...Barney! Necille!" The coyote cooed mournfully. He'd always been rather fond of the pair and their amorous antics. Gingerly he plucked them up and went to put them on the 'operating' table, which was currently sporting a smattering of dried preservation fluids. Tech started and blushed when he caught his reflection in the cracked mirror along the way. He was suddenly rather glad he appeared to be the only soul around! His clothes were filthy! His pristine lab coat was smeared, and his pants were torn on one side from the hip to his calf, exposing his dust-coated boxers. Well, at least they were a clean pair, was his first thought. Giving himself a weird look, Tech pulled off the ruined things and chucked them in a corner before returning his gaze to the mirror. No point in being tidy when the world's a mess around you.

Now that he was nude, and alone, he could study his body with a scientist's careful, curious eye. From head to tail, soft shades of green had indeed entirely replaced the dun and gray fur, but his golden eyes still remained. The back of his ears appeared to be black-no, he decided upon closer inspection, they were just a **very** deep green. The green striped down his spine, tapering above to just above the base of his tail. Truth be told, he kind of liked the look. There were worse things in life than being green, even if it wasn't always easy to be so. Twisting and turning, he scowled as he noted that he had quite a healthy look about him. Not that this actually _bothered_ him. Years of living the 'vie de science' had given him a scrawny, patchy, haggard frame. The coyote staring back looked athletic, as if he had never even heard of Qwik Wrap and played lacrosse all day long. Tech scratched his stomach. His fur was as soft as a pup's, and just as pliable.

Quickly, he plucked some hairs from various locations on his body. Taking time only to don a new pair of boxer shorts, he sorted and placed the hairs on slides and peered eagerly at them through his microscope. Yes, yes, just as he thought. These green hairs were healthy looking-vibrant and smooth and springy. It was as if they were newly grown. But how could that be? The pelt of an adult coyote, such as himself, should have a stiffer layer of guard hairs overlying a softer, shorter underlayer. One layer to retain heat, the other to help repel UV radiation and parasites. But these hairs were indistinguishable from each other! Every hair looked to be the same length, width, and thickness, regardless of where they had been plucked from.

Tech frowned as he continued to stare into the eyepiece. No overcoat would make him far more susceptible to sunburn, and heat loss. Not a good thing. Eyes never leaving the scope, he stretched out an arm automatically. It was his habit to keep a voice recorder near him to record any data, as well as any mutterings that may later become useful. It had saved him time and again from pulling his hair out when a test wasn't working properly, or when other colleagues tried to pass of his data as their own. Instead of the cool, black, textured rectangle, however, his fingers met sharp, jagged glass.

"_Mak'tah! Shaat_!" He cursed as he reared back, cradling the afflicted hand. Red beads of blood rose on his fingertips. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he growled at himself. "This is a war zone, not a laboratory! You should have known better!"

He snarled as he looked down at his nearly-nude self. "Look at you! You're not even wearing the slightest bit of protective covering! Shows what good _you_ are."

Great. **_Now_** he was going to have to locate the first aid kit. Blessedly, it was near where it was meant to be. But the kit's lid had been busted open, and many of the sterile bandages were no longer so, because the iodine bottle had broken and oozed all over the place. Carefully, the genius poked through it until he found a usable pad and a small bottle of distilled water. He tore open the paper, poured on some water, and began to dab at the blood. At first he daubed gently. But as his eyes grew wider, he rubbed harder and harder. Impossible! _The wounds were no longer open!_

Open? It was if he'd never even been cut! With an almost maniacal gleam in his gold eyes, Tech grabbed the nearest sharp object. Hesitating for only a moment, he slashed a long gash into his arm, carefully avoiding his wrist and the major artery that lay within. He might be crazy, but he wasn't completely stupid. Blood dribbled out and clotted on the green fur, and he carefully began to count the seconds. He held his arm up at a ninety degree angle, so that the blood would flow away from the wound.

_…Fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty!_ The bleeding ceased as the wound finished sealing up like a zipper. Using the cloth to wipe away the excess blood, he was simply stunned to see his arm whole, the only evidence of his actions being a thin line of bare skin. And a few seconds later, even that proof was lost as fur sprouted before his very eyes, fresh and green like spring grass.

"Fascinating." He breathed.

Tech was shattered from his dazed reverie when a familiar, yet odd sound reached his ears. He traced it to his pants, and was amazed to extract his cell phone, bent but obviously in still working order. The screen had cracked, so the display was illegible.

"Hello?" Tech queried as he tried to find a comfortable angle.

"Tech? Darling? Is that you?"

Tinny, distant, and slightly garbled as the reception was, he knew that voice. He'd know it in a crowded room.

"Hello, mother."

"HELLO! HELLO! Is that all you can say to me? Where are you? Where have you been? Why haven't you been answering? I've been calling and calling!"

Tech rolled his eyes. Well, it was rather hard to answer the phone if you weren't awake! "I just woke up a little while ago, mother. See, I-"

"Just woke up! So you've been napping while your poor mother's been worried about you all this time! I've been running these nice soldiers to death, looking for you! Now where are you? I'll send them right over!"

"Mother, what are you going on about? Why are you with soldiers?"

"Never mind that! Where are you?"

"I'M AT HOME!"

"…"

Tech cringed at the silence. He shouldn't have screamed like that. No doubt she was frightened. It should have occurred to him sooner to call her. But then again, he had been distracted. "I'm here, mom. At my dorm room. Do you remember where it is? You've been here before." _When you chastised my dorm mates for watching adult videos during school hours. Oy, what a mess that was._

"Tech Einstein Coyote! Are you telling me you are still in _Borasilica_!"

"Yes! Where else would I be?"

There was a long pause. So long he thought they'd been disconnected. "Mother? Are you still there?"

"You're in your room."

"Yes."

"At the University."

"Yes."

"In Borasilica."

"_YES!_"

"Baby, why are you still there!"

Now Tech wasn't only annoyed-he was confused. "Huh? Wait, mom? How long have you been trying to get ahold of me?"

"…Three days...Three whole days…"

"_Three days…_" Tech whispered in shock as the phone dropped to the floor.

--o0o--

Whee! We made it! The angsty bit is over! Now we have to put the team to work!

Did you like? Did you hate? Do you regret telling me to press on? Are you going to throttle me for what I did to Rev? Does _Mak'tah! Shaat_! Mean anything in the real world? If it does, lemme know. Basically, I'm trying to create a language for coyotes that has a southwestern/Native American feel to it. I'll be the first to admit I haven't a clue-I just go with what my brain says feels right.

_Here, roadrunners-since they have such long, thin necks-can turn their heads nearly a full 180 degrees with minimal shoulder and spinal rotation. In Roadie's time and before, this enabled them to see danger creep up from behind. By Rev's time, the neck is considerably shorter(a trade off for stronger arm-like wings), but this feature remains_

_Here, roadrunners are born with red plumage, to better hide in the reddish rock crèches that are their nurseries. Although the average modern runner now lives in an adobe cave-like structure, this trait is still predominant. The plumage turns to the familiar blue at sexual maturity-about 12-15 yrs old._

_I may get around to writing this tale someday, if enough people are interested. _

_Contrary to the urban belief, roadrunners do not just eat birdseed. They are actually omnivorous bordering of insectivores, and like the occasional small lizard in their diet. Incidentally, this is why there is a grill in Rev's backyard._

_Shoe wearing by the anthro sapiens is prone to individual whim. Because their feet are often extreme in size or length (as in the case of, Elephants or Mice), or extremely specialized (like many bird species and ungulates), shoes must be custom made and therefore pricey. Unconsciously, an anthro wearing shoes is held in a higher regard by human society, while at the same time is considered a form of submission by anthrokind. As a result, Tech owns two pairs of carefully maintained shoes he wears to important meetings. But 95 of the time, he prefers his bare feet. And if you wanted to know, Rev's only pair of shoes are-you guessed it-his rocket boots. _


	8. Chapter 910: Echoes, Familiar Strangers

Authoress Update: I can't believe I paid over $900 on my computer to have a **trial** version of Word put on! The trial period has expired and I don't have the proper 25-digit code. Thank God my dad has an older copy of Word that he let me install. Bill Gates, you're a jackass.

Man, I had such a tough time writing this chapter. I had the 'ending', and a vague notion, but the **worst** time getting any momentum! Hope it reads well - I put myself at your mercy.

Mandark: "Dexter? What are you doing here? You're not a Warner Bros. cartoon."

Dexter: "Duh, I know that, Mandark!"

Mandark: "Then why are you here?"

Dexterwith eyeshine: "Well, if yoo must know, I am here too get Bugs Bunny's autograph!"

Mandark: "Ha-haha! Ha ha ha, ha ha ha-ha! Oh you silly fool, it's too late for that!"

Dextereyes a-watering: "You mean he's…"

Mandark: "Gone! He was in the first chapter-your about seven chapters too late. kisses autographed photo Ah, this will make a lovely, treasured gift for my beloved Dee-Dee. Ah, Deeee-Deeee!"

Dexter: "Wah-ahh! Now all I have left are these stooped disclaimers! Wahaahahaaa!"

….

A.S.D.A

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 8: Echoes 

Growing Concerns for Acmetropolis?

By M. Bidewell

It is now the year 2775, three years after the horrible tragedies that befell our city-planet that humbling day. The day heaven sent us a message, a threat, a judgment. Take your pick.

The great cities of Acmetropolis have been patched and rebuilt at remarkable speeds, and the pioneering use of genetic alteration on biologics has helped feed and clothe us all. With construction already well underway, the APC1 has budgeted for a few astronauts to return to the Acmetropolis's original position and try to salvage any and all remaining satellites. By next year, if all goes well, these old fuddy-duddies will join the new kids on the block now in orbit, along with that gloriously kitschy moon2.

Ironically, Acmetropolis' new orbit has allowed scientists to find in months what they'd spent millennia searching for before-interstellar life. Attracted by the constant buzz, clicks, whines and chatter (sort of sounds like my teenage granddaughter's social life), beings from other worlds sent the space equivalent of 'instant messages', offering advice, asking questions, and sending a convoy of ambassadors who demonstrated a popular, if dangerous, game that took the younger generation by storm.

And based upon their recommendations, certain chemical compounds were released into the atmosphere to halt the ozone depletion. Unfortunately, there seems to be nothing in the works to _restore_ what was taken away. And thanks to those chemical reactions, eventually, the sky lost much of that depressingly deep purple hue. I've been told we will never see that beautiful aquamarine blue of our youth again, but personally, I'm not losing hope. In the meantime, at least the red-orange skies at noon are a nice change of pace.

But not everything is 'hunky-dory'. Not by a long shot. As the years have passed, a growing number of strangely empowered _homo _and_ anthro sapiens_ have begun to appear, and they are creating more and morehavoc by the month. Once kept hush-hush by local government forces, these super-beings have grown in nerve and brazenness. The fact that last night's raid in Central Chinatown3 was even mentioned in the news reports proves that everyday forces are ill-equipped to handle this new brand of lawbreaker. If the police can't stop them, if the armed forces can't stop them, and they are allowed to spread unchecked, will Acmetropolis have survived one external horror only to fall prey to internal ones?

Next 

Under a halogen streetlight in a lonely section of the world, a figure cloaked in red perused the words on a small teleboard once more before withdrawing it behind the velvety fabric. From the slender frame, delicate features, and make-up, one could surmise that the figure was female. But there was no one on the street to inquire otherwise, or to ask her business. She had come here because she _believed_. She believed that the articles assumptions were correct, and that government cover-ups would only allow these destructive superbeasts to assume greater power and control. She believed that the people of Acmetropolis needed a champion. And she believed that this champion could be found right here, in Greater Los Angeles. Pulling her cloak tighter around her, she slipped into the shadows of darkness to find her light-bringer.

--o0o--

Chapter 9: Hooray for Hollywood 

On the other side of G.L.A, a Chinese pagoda stands proudly, its gilded roofs illuminated by slowly sweeping searchlights. This is the neo-Chinese Theater. Its predecessor, destroyed by the great fires that swept through the area three years ago, was a landmark among landmarks. The biggest and brightest stars of Hollywood had left their indelible marks on the sidewalks, the walls, the ceilings, and the floors. The past and present had mingled here, and throngs of the devoted made a pilgrimage here everyday. So it seemed only natural to rebuild it, and make it better in the process. The roofs were gilded with twenty-four carat gold, and special booths were installed that featured massaging chairs, surround sound, and specialized cup holders that held any size beverage _and_ popcorn!

The biggest problem was the fanaticism itself. Due to the intense heat, exploding whatnots, and the chemical snuffers that doused the fires, much of the legendary past had been decimated. The Screen Actors Guild then did something they would soon regret-they asked the public who was included on the new Walk of Fame. Think of all the time saved from doing research, they thought. Millions of people had gone through the theater since its inception, after all. It'd be easier just to ask the people than to open ancient, dusty, unorganized file boxes.

So the people spoke…and spoke…and kept speaking until the mailrooms were full. And unfortunately, there wasn't the random variety the SAG had hoped for. Yes, classic stars were mention like Bugs Bunny, Kermit DeFrogge, and Marilyn Monroe. But for every correctly named star, a thousand more came in for the new starlets, like Hillary Lohann, who mainly got by on their bland god looks, teenage angst, their homogenized roles, and aggressive ad campaigns. Finally fed up, the SAG announced a finalized list that included as many of the original recipients it could verify, and a couple of the popular stars of the present age. Hundreds were, of course, outraged, and protests were often seen in the area.

It was a protest gone awry that had put Ace in his current situation. Since his casual recruitment by that general all those months ago, Ace had been one busy bunny. His ability to stay calm and cool under pressure, as well as his martial art/stunt double background, made him a desirable asset in the battle against the new wave of 'super-freaks', as the rank-and-file called them.

He never let on that he was one of them. He spent every moment of free time he had learning to contain the laser vision he had somehow acquired along with enhanced eyesight. He was very careful not to let his control slip, partly for fear of hurting innocent people, and partly in fear of becoming hunted down by the very same organizations that employed him.

Organizations like the SAG, who hired him along with a platoon of regular SWAT officers to cover the addition of the latest star in front of the glittering pagoda. It had started well, with beautiful people in skimp, glittery things donning forced smiles for omnipresent reporters who asked stupid questions at stupid times. The protestors were well-behaved at first-just a quietly circling group bearing picket signs denouncing the values of the current flash-in-the-pan actress who happily misspelled her own name in the wet cement in a gown that would never be seen without pixellation ever again. But apparently they got tired of being ignored, and became more vocal. Eventually, one large Bull broke loose from the circle and elbowed his way into the throng of oglers.

"**That plasticized bimbo doesn't deserve a star! This is a place to honor great actors, not good whores**!" He shouted, snorting heavily.

The crowd roared and gasped in collective outrage. The theater owner angrily cried out for security while the starlet, one Mindy Mooshie, took the opportunity to make a poorly organized attempt to look frightened while simultaneously taking a deep breath (The picture that resulted would eventually make an appearance in every comedian's routine that year…).

Cameramen, reporters, and security began to push at the Bovine, while more protesters, seeing their chance at free airtime, joined the fray, shoving their placards and picket signs into any and every available camera.

"Stop them, Murray!" Mindy whined. "They're taking away all my attention! This is _my_ night!"

"Don't worry, baby." The tall gentleman patted her head absently, mussing her hair slightly. "**GET HIM OUTTA HERE!**" He snarled at the theater manager, a balding man with a pinched face and a penchant for sweating profusely.

"We're trying!" The exasperated man wailed as he mopped off the top of his head with a white hanky. He shoved it into one back pocket and whipped out his two-way phone from the other. "Get the back-up security in her quick before we have a riot on our hands!"

"**_EEEEK!_**"

The poor manager looked down to the screaming starlet. He was currently standing in the middle of her cement square. The only legible thing left was the word 'Moo'.

"Security back-up requested. Assemble all units STAT!"

"Dat's our cue, boys!" Ace crowed. Ace had been very proud when Sergeant Sam told him he was to be in charge of the SWAT platoon that night. Yes, he was aware that the mission was considered a 'baby-sitter's' job, and of the grumblings of the men and women behind him who resented being under the command of a rookie _anthro_. But he was an old hat to the Hollywood lifestyle. No small parts...right?

So eagerly he gave out his orders. "Half a' youse go cut off dat crowd before da udders get up da courage to join the exhibitionists over dere. Da rest of youse guys come with me. We'll get a rope on 'Bossy' and her crew. And remember the higher-ups don't want any of dis on da news, so be discreet about it!"

Despite their disapproval fore their leader, an order was an order, so the eleven officers split up and proceeded to do as they were told. Meanwhile, 'Bossy' was becoming more and more enraged by the growing pandemonium. It wasn't helping that Mindy and Murray were in a screaming match with each other as the poor owner tried to pull his Italian leather loafers out of the dried cement. The Bull's eyes bulged as foam flecked from his mouth and onto the nearby lenses. Suddenly, with a great bellow, he dipped his massive head and rammed the nearest object!

The poor girl was saved only by the fact there were so many people around her-the Bull did not have enough room to do much more than spear her camera. But the sight of it dangling from a horn sent cameras clicking. The endless flashes made him go ballistic! Dropping to all fours, he used his massive neck to pick off people left and right, goring one poor soul in a rather…distinctive place.

"AHHH! AHHH! AAHHHHH!"

"Dammit!" Ace cursed as he lent over the wild-eyed man. "Get dis guy to a medic, and get back here pronto!" He yelled over to the nearest officer, who quickly complied. This wasn't going well, he thought with a grimace. Things were spiraling out of control almost faster than he could think. _Almost_.

"**Hey, Bossy!"**

The maddened creature turned bloodshot eyes onto the rabbit. Those who could still move quickly took the opportunity to do so. The Bull turned his massive bulk in the same direction as his head, snorted, and pawed the ground.

"C'mon doc! Whaddya say we talk dis whole t'ing over a nice cuppa joe, like civilized beings?" In response, Ace's opponent bellowed and shook his horns.

"Look, don't be stubborn! Dere's a whole platoon of SWAT agents just itching to turn youse inta T-bone. All dey need to hear is my tellin' them go. T'ings don't hafta end dat way! Just put 'cher hands up an' come quietly!"

"**NO! Not while that bubble-headed bimbo is alive!" **And with that, he chargedthe bubble-headed bimbo in question. Mustering every drop of poise and control with in her…she screamed her fool head off.

"**EEEeeeEEEeeKKKKKKKKKK!"**

What happened next was a blur to Ace. One moment he was standing helplessly a good twenty feet from the girl, watching half a ton of hamburger prepare to deflate her over inflated bust line, the next moment he was in the air, his eyes filled with that familiar, damning red glow. A moment later, he was crouching on the ground, and the moving meatloaf was covered in the thick red velvet drapes that had hung above the platform. He thrashed in confusion, but only for a few seconds more, because then his sharp horns managed to rip the thick fabric and out popped his head.

Now he was really pissed. A puny rabbit had thwarted his efforts to rid the world of a cinematic blemish. He reared back, tearing the cloth with his hands as he did so, and made his way forward, never once tearing his gaze from the gray-and-yellow lagomorphs.

"**How dare you! It's plebian fools like you that allow the bastardization of the great medium of film to continue!**"

Ok, big, scary, _and_ learned. Not often you got that combo in an opponent. "Look doc, you got it all wrong." Ace made a placating gesture with one hand as he gestured for back up with the other. "I'm a big fan of da classics!"

Desperately he looked away, wondering why the help he requested was taking so long. Protestors and SWAT officers alike were just staring at him. They had all seen the red beams of energy shoot forth from his eyes. They _knew_. They were in the presence of the mutating effects of the meteor, and it fascinated yet repulsed them at the same time. The officers were doubly so, for this…this miscreant had been their squad leader! They had been following a mutant!

"**Looks like your fan club just disbanded.**" The bovine chuckled maliciously.

For a moment, Ace allowed the hurt to show in his eyes at the unexpected betrayal. After all he'd done…! Well, no use trying to fix things now. He could see he was on his own, and a moving feast with sharp pointy bits was still on the loose. As much as he hated these 'fair-weather friends' right now, he wasn't the type of hero to let them get maimed over it. Time to move to a different venue.

"All right, hamburger helper! Catch me if ya can!" Ace took off down the street. Ten seconds later, the Bull got over his shock and charged after.

--o0o—

Chapter 10: Familiar Strangers 

The night had started out so well. Ace had been given command of his very first squad. All he had to do was keep things under control, maintain a presence of security, then return unscathed to the sergeant for a few words of praise and a better job next time around.

Instead, he had nearly allowed an enraged Bull to tear a hole thru a high-profile celebrity, exposed his special abilities, and seen his platoon mutiny in front of a hundred cameras-probably on live feed, too. Gee, what to do with the rest of the night?

Ace dared to glance over his shoulder. The Bull was gaining faster than he had hoped. He needed an idea, and he needed it quick, or otherwise a dressing-down from his superiors was to be the least of his worries!

"Hey! Watch it!"

The glance back had been costly. Ace had just slammed full speed into a citizen. The rabbit's momentum caused both _anthros_ to bowl down the sidewalk for several paces before breaking apart. Both males rubbed their respective heads as the city spun about them for a few seconds more.

"What a fine kettle of fish!" The other _anthro_, a Duck, snarled in the slightly lispish tone common among the waterfowl. "Why dontcha watch where yer goin', long ears?"

Ace, seeing as his was not such a very good night, prepared a delightfully envenomated4 retort. Then he saw 'El Toro' over the Bird's shoulder, and decided to let the moment pass.

"MOVE!" Ace snagged the civilian's arm and ran again, the fowl barely managing to get his webbed feet underneath him as they went.

"Now just a cotton-pickin' minute here! You can't go around kidnapping innocent little ducks! I have my rights! I demand to see an attorney!"

"I ain't kidnapping ya, I'm saving your feathered butt! Unless ya'd rather be run over by half a ton of hamburger?"

"Huh?" The duck looked behind him and into the blood-shot eyes and a drooling maw. In a very tiny voice, he plaintively whispered. "Mother." Then…

Adrenaline rushed through to his big feet and he overtook the rabbit (by actually running **over** him), screaming "AHHHH! I'm too young to die!"

"Calm down and quit screaming! We need ta think up a plan!"

"**We**! Who's 'we'? **You're** the one who got me into this mess in the first place!"

"Well, what were ya doing in this part of town at this time of night in the first place!"

"If you must know," the duck replied airily, "I am practicing some top secret maneuvers for the military."

"Maneuvers?" Ace asked skeptically.

"Yes! Oh, I wouldn't expect an _ordinary_ citizen like you to understand! Anyway, it's top secret stuff, so you'd have to have a security clearance badge like…the one you…have…"

Ace smirked as he flipped his wallet shut and replaced it in his pocket. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to like the quacker. It had been a long time since he'd been free to get a rise or two out of someone, and this little black duck definitely needed to get knocked down a few. "So, what maneuvers are ya working on, duck boy-HEY! QUIT BREATHING ON MY TAIL!"

The Bull stopped. The duck stopped. Ace stopped. The Bull was dumbfounded. Ace was horror-struck. The duck was just confused….

**"ROOOOAAARRRR!"** The Bull bellowed with all his might, sending fur, ears, and feathers flapping in the mighty wind. With a weak smile, Ace patted his muzzle before taking off again. Three steps away he realized the duck was still awestruck, turned around and grabbed him by the back of his tank top.

"Gack! Hey!"

**"ROOOOAAARRRR!"** The bovine bellowed again as his quarry got away again. Lowering his head once more, he charged after them like a train engine.

"Wha-ha-ha-ho!" The feathered one squealed as his senses got together again. "Got a plan yet, blue eyes?"

"Not yet and the name's Ace."

"Ah. Danger Duck's the name!" He half-heartedly saluted as he ran a few steps behind. "Ever ready for the battles that lay ahead-"

"Yeah, well, don't look now, but the battle's _behind_ you at the moment." Ace quipped. He chuckled at Duck's whimper. "Hey! Ya got anything red?"

"Well, if you _must_ insist on playing matador, my friend, let me point out a few minor details of importance: one, bulls are color-blind, and therefore are enraged by movement, not color. Two, I have nothing but a map and the clothes on my back, thank you very much. And three: THIS IS A DEAD-END STREET!"

"WHAT? Oh Crap!" Ace and Duck skidded to a stop in front of a brick wall. "Now what?" He wailed.

"What we need is a big cattle prod!" Duck commiserated. "And a super-sized holding pen."

A light bulb clicked on in the lagomorph's brain, and he glanced around. Yes…yes…it could just work! "We need a distraction, Duck!"

"Well, whaddya looking at **_me_** for?"

Ace had already hopped up atop a garbage bin, gathering his plan. But he paused to bend over and pat the duck's head. "Because I'm just an average citizen." He said sweetly.

Duck grumbled murderous things as Ace slipped into the shadows. With a sigh of resignation, he tried to ignore the white-hot panic that threatened to overwhelm him. No, he had let that happen to him when the meteor hit. Danger Duck wasn't a fledgling anymore. His parents weren't going to shield him-not that he had ever really expected them to anyway-or throw themselves at the Bull's mercy. No, it was all up to him to save the day. Ace was counting on him. The rabbit was a smart-alec, for sure. But he obviously needed a levelheaded fellow (like himself) to keep him out of trouble.

"Okay…" Duck pulled off his shirt and unfolded his cheap 'map to the stars' and held them in his hands. He stretched out his arms and pulled his legs together like a dancer would. He inhaled deeply and held still for a moment. Eyes closed, he counted the rhythmic snorts as the enraged bovine drew near. _Three…two…one!_

"Whoo-Hoo! WHOO-Hoo! Whoo-HOO!" Duck began to leap wildly about, waving the map and his shirt about. Up on the fire escape, Ace started, nearly slipping off the ladder. He snickered behind one hand as he watched the poor avian make a fool out of himself. But it worked – the long-horned creature was in sensory overload, unsure of where to charge first.

"Oh, Ace pant pant Think you could gasp, wheeze speed it up a little? I think he's pant wearing out!"

Ace paused to wipe the sweat from his brow before resuming his work. He had never used his new laser powers this long before. His head ached, and his eyes felt like a case of Visine would be a Godsend. "Just a little longer, buddy."

The Bull was getting bolder by the minute as Duck's 'dance' grew more and more subdued. "Done!" Ace whispered proudly. "Duck! Move him over here!"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Look, Just get him over here! You maybe wanna keep dancing? Personally, I'd rather have a drink right about now."

"You buying?"

"MOVE IT, DUCK!"

"All right, all right." He muttered. With a last desperate burst, he somehow managed to lure the mad cow into just the right spot.

"Duck!"

"Hey, I'm wriggling as best as I can here, mister!"

"No doc! DUCK!

Duck turned and did a double take as the large, black metal object careened towards his head. Barely, his head managed to clear underneath, the top feathers ruffling in the breeze. With a loud '**Clang!'** It swung right into the other's head, dazing the creature.

"Step back, duck!" Ace ordered as he landed next to his feathered colleague. A split second later, he used his laser vision to soften the iron one last time. Sensing the added heat, the Bull thrashed about, twisting the pliable material all around his horns. As it cooled, he found himself thoroughly enmeshed in the stuff, unable to break free. Ace, with Danger Duck's assistance, had trapped him in a way that he could move back and forth, but not be able to turn and therefore gain enough leverage to snap the metal frame away.

"Dat'll hold ya till tha' authorities come." Ace smirked in satisfaction.

Duck stared agape at his new friend. "You had laser vision…you had laser vision? YOU HAD LASER VISION!" He roared.

"…And his control was most impressive." A feminine voice cooed from the darkness.

"Who's dere?" Ace drew back into a fighting stance while Duck…ducked behind him. Even the Bull's curiosity was piqued, and he tried to look behind him worriedly.

"Do not be alarmed, Ace Bunny. I am a friend." A red robed figure stepped into the paltry streetlight calmly. She stopped at the end of the alley, and withdrew a slender, pale arm from the red fabric. "I am called Zadovia. I wish to offer you employment."

Duck quickly stepped in front of the rabbit. Hey, you couldn't make an omelette without breaking an egg, right? "Employment, madame? Well, I'm honored, but I believe a traditional meeting place would be-"

"I was referring to Mr. Bunny, not to you." Zadovia said firmly. Her mouth was drawn in a thin scowl.

"Well, dat's all well and good, Miss, eh, Zadovia." Ace gently pushed the heartbroken duck aside, "But I'm going to have to go with 'Feathers' here. I mean, I don't really know you-"

"Is that all?" She smiled. "Well, I cannot give you much to go on, I'm afraid. What I'm organizing must, at the present time, be kept in the _strictest_ confidence." She glanced over to the waterfowl, who was currently digging into his ear. Ace nodded-he got her groove now.

"But, I will divulge this. I have been following the rising trend of these 'superbeast' attacks, and I am growing gravely concerned. I believe Acmetropolis must create and maintain an equally powerful force to combat and contain them. Do you agree?"

Ace and Duck shared confused glances before shrugging. "Yeah…" he replied slowly.

"Well, every team needs a leader, Ace, and I believe you will perform splendidly."

"Me! You want me to lead a team of…of superheroes?"

Zadovia's lips split to reveal a brilliant white smile. "I do. Tonight in particular you have proven that you have the strength, speed, courage, and willpower to lead most effectively."

"But his laser vision!"

"Evidence to the point, Mr. Duck. Ace could have destroyed this Bull tonight. Instead, he risked his own life-"

"And mine too…" Duck muttered.

"-To keep even those who turned their back on him from harm. That is a true leader in my book." She finished proudly. "But don't feel pressured to answer me now. Take this-it's the address of the building where I plan on using as a headquarters. If you do not show up by this time tomorrow, I will accept your decline. But I _do_ hope you will be there." She gave Ace a folded paper and retreated. As soon as he was sure she wasn't looking, Duck read it over his shoulder.

Ace tilted the paper slightly to give him better access, while his brow furrowed in thought. The new leader of a group of superheroes….

"Say, that's in the capital city!"

"Huh?" Ace blinked. "What is?"

Duck rolled his eyes. "The address, dumb bunny! Don't you read the net papers? It's the new mystery building that was built in just a few weeks, but is completely vacant! Which is just as well, since I'll be needing a large amount of space for all my awards."

"Awards?"

"Y'know, humanitarian awards, Nobel peace prizes, that sort of thing! Superheroes need to think of things like that!"

"Superhero? I don't recall the lady calling you out!" Ace ribbed him good-naturedly. He owed the duck-his dignity (or lack of it) saved his furry tail from a messy end. He'd convince the new boss to let the featherhead in-but not before making him sweat a little first! "Besides, to be a _superhero_, one must have _superpowers_, like say, _laser-vision_?"

Danger Duck stopped his preening at once, and turned cool eyes on the rabbit. "You think you're something special, Mr. Yellow-cheeks? Ever notice **these**?" He held his orange dipped hands in front of him. "I was changed that day too, long ears!" He slapped on hand onto Ace's shoulder. Ace tried to apologize, but the Bird squeezed tight, making him wince instead. Suddenly a tingling formed in his stomach, and looked with frightened eyes at the now smirking little black-and-orange duck.

"You're not the only super-critter in town."

_1. APC: APCAcmetropolis Planetary Congress. See chapter 'Crowning' for details_

2. The New Moon: A gift from an eccentric group of wealthy romantics, who believed dark forces would tear the fragile planet apart if the night sky had no "romance". They pooled their fortunes to have artisans sculpt a perfect (if small) recreation, which was sent up by 2 spaceships to its current orbit. Hailed by many to be a huge waste of money and time, many others felt comforted to just see it and pretend…and snuggle.

_3. Central Chinatown: The one located in the capital city of Acmetropolis that is seen on the show._

_4 Envenomated: The authoress wonders if this word exists. She seems to recall seeing it somewhere…regardless, she's sure you, gentle reader, get the drift._


	9. Chapter 11: Cut the Cord

Authoress Update: I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I know this took forever to post! Hell, it took almost as long to write!

See, the 1st problem was that I thought there needed to be a little more back-story here,

The second was that, well, despite the weather channels disillusions, Buffalo is **not** the snowiest of American cities. It is, however, rare for us to have weeks of gorgeous spring weather (we usually get rain and damp till about May). Can you blame a gal fore wanting to stretch her leg muscles and shed those Xmas pounds?

Authoress Update On the Show: Um…yeah. I think we can, by this point, safely rule out a second season of LU. The incessant rerunning of the 1st 6 epis was a clue, but I think the final nail in the coffin is the new 7 am time slot. Of course, I could always be wrong, but I thought the midmorning time slot was the best? Growing up, that was the most likely time for kids to be awake, and their parents needing them distracted while the coffee percolates thru their systems. Which is a shame, because I've seen this fandom grow since I plunked down my first chapter. Granted, 99 of us are re-writing the show's plotline….

A.S.D.A

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 11: Cut the Cord 

"Well, I will definitely contemplate about your offer." Tech said thoughtfully as he stared at the slip of paper.

"I thank you. I _do_ hope you will accept, but I will understand if you cannot." Zadovia smiled. With a nod, she turned to leave. "Goodnight, Dr. Coyote."

"Mmn. Yes. Ah, good night." Tech answered distractedly, barely realizing what he was saying.

"Oh, before I forget!" Zadovia purred. "I would just like to say I was always fascinated and intrigued by your father's theories of magnetism."

_That_ caught the spring-dyed coyote's attention. "My father…?"

"Yes." She nodded. "A brilliant man, taken before his time. My sympathies to you and to your mother." That said, she walked off into the desert night, leaving him to stare after her.

When he could no longer hear her footsteps, Tech walked back towards the split-level home that he'd spent his cubhood in. The military had declared Borasilica 'unlivable' (probably due more to the many hush-hush projects than actual danger to citizens), and so he found himself expertly dodging the cracked spots of the stone paved walkway as if he had never left. It was something that both comforted and yet infuriated him.

"_I'm intrigued by your father's theories…" _Tech mimicked with a snarl.

_Well, she certainly knows what buttons to push,_ he thought. Something smelled…not quite right. No, he amended, _she_ didn't smell quite right. Not quite human…but not quite, well, _not_. How did she know his father? Had she studied his research? Been a lab assistant? Given him a research grant? A lover?

Tech shook his head as he turned the doorknob. His father died when he was little-not quite twelve-and as far as he was aware, Anoki Coyote had been a faithful and doting parent. To doubt that now would mean doubting his memories-his very own existence! This…Zadovia must have simply desired his cooperation by any means necessary. Something akin to emotional blackmail.

And that brought him back to the set of instructions neatly typed on the expensive but common Government Issue paper1. What was it that she really wanted? Why him? Sure, he was the only bright green coyote for miles, and yes, he was intelligent. But he was, well, socially awkward, a college outcast, and prone to destroy as much as create.

"_A brilliant man, taken before his time…" _Tech pondered Zadovia's final words. His father had always been his hero. He smiled as he flopped into the old natty recliner by the adobe brick fireplace. The night was cool in the desert, so he flipped on the propane and pressed the ignition. Soon, a small blaze crackled. The crunchy sounds accompanying the wisp of propane gas and the warmed air soothed his mind a little.

This was his father's chair. That was the only reason it was still here, making a mockery of the brand new store bought furniture surrounding it like a bunch of uptown snobs. It was very old-Tech's great-grandfather had carved the frame, and his great-grandmother had woven the fabric that covered it. Tech knew this because Anoki had told him so. The handsome graying coyote with the thick glasses proudly told his son tales of his great-grandfather and his son, of his father and Anoki, and promised Tech of equally wild times. Anoki taught Tech about ions and protons and of interstellar physics. Of tiny machines no bigger than a pinhead that could stitch up tiny capillaries. Why magnets did what they did and how they could be coaxed to do miracles.

Then a junkie in a hovercar plowed into the side of his father's hoverbus, taking all the promises and miracles with him to _O'kulumbo_ and his _mbokuta_. Little Tech became the 'man of the house' at a time he needed to be it least. He remembered the funeral, the procession of great men who commented him on his "stiff upper lip" and "strength of character". He remembered holding his mother's hand as she sobbed hysterically. His family members had all told him to "be strong for his mama."

Tech cocked his head. Come to think of it, he hadn't done a thing for himself in nearly fifteen years! Not that her really regretted anything he had done thus far, save, of course, spending more time with his dad. His mother had pushed to give him the finest education available, and pushed him to return those favors by becoming smarter and more inventive than anyone else. That's what his mother wanted. A super-genius to replace his father's lost gifts. What did Tech want?

"What indeed?" He muttered softly.

"A quark for your thoughts, _Nizhoni_2?" Nascha cooed as she breezed into the large, warm den.

Just shy of fifty, she was still as lovely as she was in her twenties. Cappuccino fur flecked with silver highlights shimmered gold in the light of the small fire, while long, dark, thick eyelashes framed the liquid gold of her eyes-the very same hue that colored her son's. Her snout was petite and well formed, the corners turned up into an indulgent smile. A lithe, slender, shapely frame was sheathed in a baby pink satin robe, under which the hemline of a white satin nightdress was visible. Every step was cultured and careful, full of grace and unspoken breeding.

It was a clever ruse, for Nascha's family was _anything_ but upper crust. Her father was a janitor, her mother a school lunch lady, and working at-_gasp_- Nascha's high school. She was stilled bothered occasionally by visions of her plump mother, standing at the front door in a stained hairnet and apron, stockings saggy (as if they were trying to escape the roly-poly woman), and _slippers_, proudly slinging a large amount of mysterious sludge onto her tray along with an extra biscuit. One of the 'perks' of the job, along with the fact Nascha and her siblings never had to pay for a meal.

Nascha endured the cruel snickers of the 'brown-baggers', the embarrassment of her elder, fashion-unconscious sisters hand-me-downs, and twelve years of public schooling by forming an elaborate plan-Marry Rich, and Get The Hell Out Of Town.

Having precious little in the way of cold hard cash, Nascha spent hours at the free libraries, reading over and over again all the literature that had to do with manners, social expectations, fashion, what to do, where to be, how to act, what to say. She spruced up her meager wardrobe by teaching herself how to sew, knit, crochet, and spangle. She practiced her 'feminine wiles' on the males of her town, discarding what didn't work and holding tight to what did. These 'practice sessions' occasionally led to some fantastic adventures…

Eventually, by the time she graduated high school, Nascha had her act down pat. She knew how to enter and leave a room; act interested in a boring date, what fork was intended for salad. She could make a twelve-year-old dress look elegant and new for a minimal amount of money and just the right accessories, as well as how to make someone else feel like they were _the_ most important and fascinating person in the room.

But behind it all was a terrified little girl. Nascha's parents dismissed her as being silly and vain, and when her elder sisters married twin plumbers, they chastised her for being "acting above her own kind" and "unmarriageable material." Nascha herself trembled with the fear that she would one day slip up and reveal her carefully guarded secrets. That in the middle of the crowded room, a child would see the empress was naked. And so the young woman clung to her paper mentors' promises- "that nothing could go wrong unless one believed it would do so."

It was that blinding belief that gave her the strength and courage to saunter up the grand staircase at the University at Four Corner's annual 'Spring Fling' benefit without an invitation. She was now nineteen, and it was finally time to put her plan into action.

With a practiced ease, Nascha sauntered cautiously up to a single male about to enter. Snatching a champagne flute off a silver tray, she pretended to be more interested in the guest on the floor than the old Coyote getting his invitation checked. When he was cleared and began tottering down the steps, she kept careful pace besides him until the crush of partygoers hid her from the bouncers.

"Work smarter, not harder." She smiled, as she gracefully slipped into a random clique. Phase One complete. Now the hard part: finding the most eligible male in the room, latch on, and charm him into submission. Careful questioning narrowed the field to two: one Issac Coyote, a tenured genius with a mastery of chemistry, or 'Big Bob' Thorton, the loose-lipped, and even looser moralled son of WeEnCo, Inc.3

After forty minutes of fruitless search, she'd all but given up. Just then, a cry of "Dr. Coyote!" Reached her ears. . She turned and saw a young coyote male talking with several professor-looking types. It had to be him! Smoothing her dress and patting her hair, she slid one arm through the crook of his and cooed, "So tell me, doctor, have you ever heard that the same paramones that may cause mental imbalances are the same paramones that create the sensations of amour? That is to say, 'crazy in love'?"

Fortunately, _Anoki_ Coyote had been most bemused by her actions. "Do you, perchance, mean _pheromones_, my dear lady? I'm afraid that's more a question for a chemist, not a man who studies nanotechnology, don't you agree?"

She'd done it. Her nightmares brought to life. She'd messed up! This was no middle-aged, tenured professor! This was a young male, no more than his mid-twenties! How could she have been so stupid!

Anoki's brow had furrowed in concern. Nascha had been staring at him in mortification for almost two minutes by now. "Um…are you all right…?"

His voice, like electricity, snapped through her. Quickly she bolted towards the nearest exit, the coke-bottle framed male calling after her…

Nascha smiled sadly at the memory of that long-ago night. All these things seemed to well up inside of her whenever she looked into her son's face. How Anoki had caught up with her and apologized profusely. How she wept in shame at her lack of faith and ability. The way he tipped his head back in laughter that night and all the other wondrous days and nights they'd shared. Those ridiculous glasses. That gentle way he'd held her on their wedding night six months later.

Tears brimmed in her eyes as her mind's camera spooled through the memory of Tech's birth, her sweet Anoki's thin frame swathed in a tent of green scrubs as he gushed over his new son. How she and he and Tech would all bundle up in their battered hovercar in the cold January nights and search the skies for comets and shooting stars...

And then that evil, evil, evil afternoon…

She bit her lower lip to keep herself from breaking down and sobbing. She couldn't do that. Not in front of Tech. Little Tech, who would wail in his sleep but act terribly composed in the glare of day. A little terrified boy hiding behind a charade of grace and charm. A role she knew all too well.

But her little boy had one advantage she never had-true intelligence. Blessedly, he'd inherited every single smart gene that Anoki possessed. And so she had made more deals with more devils than she could ever count. All to give him everything she and Anoki had promised him the day he'd slipped into their life. And he had made her more than a little proud. Nascha had already formulated, and put into motion, a plan to reinstate her only offspring into the world's most prestigious college. His new color was…disconcerting, but for now only served to aid his restoration. She'd worry about his risk of becoming a test subject later.

"Mother…"

Nascha smiled and took a sip of tea from a heavy mug. "Mmm? Yes, _Nizhoni_?"

"I met a woman today…" At her knowing smirk and raised brow, he couldn't help but chuckle. "It's not what you think, Mother. She offered me a job."

Nascha frowned. "What kind of job." She asked carefully.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Not at liberty!" Nascha scoffed, "I'm your _mother_! I think I have a right to know!"

It was Tech's turn to frown. "You can't know everything, Mother. Nobody can."

"DON'T YOU TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME, YOUNG MAN!" Nascha shrieked as she stood straight up, every inch of her lithe frame trembling.

"I'M NOT A CUB ANYMORE!" Tech had also stood up, with enough force to set the recliner rocking violently. "I can make my own decisions now! I don't need you to hold my hand!"

"Hold your….! Is that the thanks I get for giving you an education? For feeding you? Clothing you? Trying to get the smartest men in town to see you as the genius you are! For giving you advantages we never had? Why, when your father was your age-"

"I AM NOT ANOKI, MOTHER! I NEVER WAS AND I NEVER WILL! I…." Tech's fury drained from him and his shoulders slumped. "I can't replace the man you lost. Or rather, the _idea_ of the man you've lost. I've tried; _O'kulumbo_ knows I've tried! But it's never enough! You just want more and more."

"No…" Nascha sobbed, the mug still clenched tightly in her hand.

"It's time to face the ugly truth, Mother. You've been molding me in his image." Tech made his way to the door, heavy hearted. "But I can't live in that mold, mother. I have to create my own."

"Where are you going?"

Tech paused in the doorway and held up the letter. "To see a woman about a job."

"No…..NO! What about the University!" Nascha clung to the mug in desperation, as if it could somehow pull the grown man back to her. "They've already called about you…"

"They can call all they like. I'm through with being someone else's lackey. I'll call you as soon as I possibly can."

"Tech. Einstein. Coyote. If you do not come to your senses and get back into this room _this instant_, then I _**have** **no** **son**_None at all!"

Tech paused a second in the doorway as he visibly stiffened. "Then…I guess I won't be calling after all…" he said softly before pulling the door closed behind him.

"RAAAAHHHAAAWHOOOOOOOOOO!" Nascha howled with rage and frustration. She threw the mug against the door with such force it shattered. Bits of ceramic were splayed across the foyer as thin streams of the brown liquid made many-fingered trails to the floor.

Like the dropping of a magician's curtain, Nascha Coyote suddenly appeared to look very old. With a wail, she dropped to her feet and wailed and pounded on the shrapnel-laced floor. She'd messed up! She'd messed up! And now, there was no one to tell her it would all be okay again….

_1. Government issue paper: After the meteor strike, the papermaking industry became a bit unreliable. Partially due to climate change, and partially due to political climate change, the industry became tightly regulated, much like oil or water is today. Most use teleboards to communicate, but hard copies are still needed in certain areas. To keep expenditures down, the APC mandated that certain watermarks be embedded in every piece. The type Tech et al are currently holding is accessible to any government employee. Therefore, no specialized license is needed to obtain it, and Zadovia cannot readily be tracked this way. Ahhhh…_

2. Nizhoni: Navajo for beautiful.

_3. WeEnCo, Inc.: West Energy Convection, Inc. When you want cheap energy, call the 'Weenie'. Sort of the future equivalent of a National Fuel, or an Exxon/Mobil._

_She seems to recall seeing it somewhere…regardless, she's sure you, gentle reader, get the drift._


	10. Chapter 12: Pinks and Purples

Authoress Update: I. Am. So. Sorry!

It's not so much writer's block I'm suffering fro, but procratinator's block! I need more mees! One to finish this, another to go work out, another to work, another to finish crocheting my friend's scarf (she just had thyroid surgery-another reason I wasn't completely focused). Another problem is the fact I haven't been watching the show. First the put it on too early, and now it's all repeats. What I'm going to hafta do is find a blank VHS tape and try recording it. It'll still be repeats, but at least then I can watch it when I'm fully awake and can turn the volume on!

If you read and review, then I utterly adore you.

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

Chapter 12: From You To Me; Pinkie Lee 

Lexi stared at her reflection in the square mirror, watching as the peroxide did its work. And thankfully, work it did, changing the thatch of hair nestled between her ears a sunny yellow. She _never_ thought she'd say this, but she was sick of pink. She was ready for a change, and in more ways than one.

After the disaster, Lexi had stuck around the school grounds, using her suddenly sharper ears to help root out survivors, and using her natural warmth to comfort those she could, even if it was just a little hug or a cheery word here and there. Her near-unshakeable faith and self-confidence inspired her fellow rescuers to work long hours through the night. They knew she wasn't SuperBunny-but to more than half the campus she was damn near close.

But her tiny headaches grew worse with the passing days, and eventually, she was forced to give up playing hero and returned to the Minnesota farmland her family had called home for sixty years. It wasn't a very large farm-1 house, a windmill (now in repair), a small barn with various farm implements, a gossipy Hen named Clara and a no-nonsense Cow named Clarabell, and six acres of arable land. But to the Bunnies, it was a castle in the sky. Well, except when the fertilizer trucks came in….

"Hey, Sis!" a youthful male voice, accompanied by heavy pounding, boomed from the other side of the door. "You almost done? I gotta put sumthin' down on paper, tch-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Lexi winced. Boys could be so vulgar! "All right! All right! Jeeze, gimmie a minute! I'm almost through!" She dipped her head under the faucet and rinsed out the last traces of peroxide. Fumbling for the nearby towel, she smiled a little at the familiarity of the present situation. An only daughter with three older sons, Lexi had been both vexed and blessed. Her larger brothers were quick to torment, like the many times one had pinned her to the bed while the other ran off to the bathroom with her favorite doll, telling her that her precious toy had been flushed away1

But they'd been always quick to protect her too, like the day she'd come home a year and a half ago. Getting off the train, she was hit by a tremendous migraine, and tossed her cookies onto the shoes of the man in front of her. While it was obviously unintentional, the tall, heavyset man had gone into a fury, calling her 'freak' and well, names too ungentlemanly to print. The twins, Chet and Wilco, had stormed up to him and threatened to rearrange his face in lurid detail until he had turned tail and ran off. Then Chet had picked her up, and carried her home and put her into bed, where her mother tucked her in.

"Lexiiiiii!" Chet's call became even more desperate. Ah, how many days of her teenage life had started this way? She'd never figure out why her parents had never given her a personal bathroom. Maybe because she was the only one who attempted to keep order out of the four…she shuddered inwardly at the sight of the trashed bathroom.

"OKAY!" Throwing the used towel into the wicker hamper, she flung open the door-and immediately was snatched up in a bear hug by a giant of a male.

"To you from me, Pinkie Lee! Tch-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"Che-e-et!" Lexi whined, her legs kicking the open air. Frighteningly, Chet was the _smallest_ of her brothers. And to think, he was a kindergarten teacher! "Put me down! I've got to get dressed!"

"Do you really have to go, sis? You could get a good job around here. The school system here is always looking for good teachers!"

"I know, but I think this is where I really need to be…"

"But you don't know who this Zadovia really is, or who she works for! It could be dangerous!"

"Anyone heard from Dean yet? That wife of his took him away a week ago, y'know!"

Chet's features grew stern and solemn. "Don't change the subject on me, Alexis." He said quietly.

" sigh I'm an adult Chet. I have to start living my life again. I know you all are suspicious, but I've got a really good feeling about this job. I really could use your support on this. You and mom and dad and Wilco and Dean. You mean everything to me!"

Chet looked fondly at his Easter egg of a sibling. "Well, DUH! That's why we are worried! You've been so sick-"

"I haven't had vertigo or a migraine in months, Chet!"

"And you never thought it might be all that country air that did that? Lexi, I'm…I just get the feeling this deal is way bigger than that freaky chick let on, okay?"

A bubble of warm gooiness oozed up through Lexi. Chet, secretly, had always been her favorite relative. He always went outr of his way to make her feel safe and wanted, and ate her brussel sprouts without complaint. "Aw, you big softie! I'll be careful, okay? And if it looks like anything is starting to get out of hand, I'll come calling-even if I have to use smoke signals." The big guy blushed, making her giggle. She had a few secrets on her brothers to use as torture too.

With a deep sigh, he relented. "Ok. But, just remember-Put Your Seat Tray In The Locked, Upright Position!"

Lexi stared, dumbfounded. "Huh?"

"Ma'am? Puh-leeze put your seat in the upright position, puh-leeze. Ma'am?"

Lexi jumped and started with a snort. She stared at the overly-endowed mink with the overly-fake smile plastered on her face. "Wha-huh? Oh, yes, yes of course….sorry."

The mink turned and sashayed down the aisle. Behind her, pushing a drool-slathered beverage cart, a geeky looking, scrawny wolf panted after. Lexi attempted to stretch the kinks out of her neck before arranging her belongings. This plane was only the third to fly regular citizens since the disaster. It had been uneventful, and she took that as a good omen. She nodded in response to the flight attendants automatic "buh-bye"s and stepped out the door to face her new future in Acmetropolis.

Chapter 13: The Wonder From Down Under 

"BleahBlahBeleahPBBTHeHeYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

With an unintelligible war cry, Slam Tasmania proceeded to right a fallen hoverbus. The tourists inside cheered his triumph. Thankfully, their injuries, where sustained, consisted of mainly bumps and bruises and a couple of bloody noses.

"SLAAAAM! Good boy!" The violet furred creature chuckled as he waved proudly back to the tourists. Despite the passage of time, Slam still could hear the whispered words the dying ref bestowed on him that fateful day. _"Good boy…good boy…"_

However, the economy had still remained a flawed capitalist design, putting Slam in a quandary-Can a good guy still have a full tummy and a roof over his head? The answer proved to be yes-at times. His newly acquired super-strength was 'bought' by many a rescue operation in the months after, and after a few weeks he'd mostly figured out how to keep from getting cheated _too_ often on his way from the gambling district home to Australia. But with a heart almost as big as his appetite, Slam often found himself in the most perilous of situations by the poorest of people. Like the little girl in Ketchikan, whose parents were unable to reach the shore due to the large waves of a virulent electrical storm. A little while longer and they would have been either drowned in the angry sea, been crushed on the jagged rocks, or fried by lightning. The youngster's cries had been so piteous; he felt he had no choice but to stand on a slippery (and rather sharp!) rock outcropping and lasso the couple to safety.

It turned out to be a good thing, however, because the newly reunited family gathered him into their group hug. Then they invited Slam into their (mostly) dry cottage, where they bundled him in fire-warmed blankets and together they enjoyed good warm food and strong drink. As an orphan, Slam had never really understood what family meant. But as they sang boisterously, thawed from the inside out, he knew that someday, somewhere, he would find one to call his own….

"LOOK OUT!"

"Huh?" Slam blinked out of his daydream in time to have a green colored tree trunk hit him in the stomach. "Ooof!" Slam landed into the side of the bus, leaving a big dent. He stayed embedded there, blinking in confusion, while the recently saved tourist began to scream in panic once more.

A large ominous creature with glowing eyes hissed and snarled into view. A giant saltwater crocodile reared up on its back legs and lunged forward, its massive jaws making a loud _CRACK!_ The beast's aim was off however-it grabbed the hover track instead of Slam. The electric components shorted when the cracked casing in his jaws were exposed to air, and he reared back once more, head thrown back with a howl of pain and fury.

"Slam have quite enough of this." The purple devil snarled as he attempted to free his heiney from the metal. As he twisted, he saw one little boy carrying a crudely made slingshot. Crude, but effective. Slam's smile grew wider. Just like him. Snatching the weapon, ignoring the boy's cries of indignation, he reached into a small pouch attached to his belt and pulled out a large, oval shaped pill. Placing the small item on the rubber band, he drew back and took careful aim….

The gator had by now recovered from the mild electrocution, and made another lunge at Slam. _TWANG!_ The shot was perfect! The pill lodged in the beast's throat, making him gasp and gag. As the tourists and citizens watched, the gator seemed to weaken and shrink.

"HAVE ON YA, MATE!"

A khaki blur knocked into the gator, rolling them both along the ground a couple of turns. A sandy haired, muscular man was astride the gator's back, pinning tight the enormous jaws. A similarly clad woman soon joined him, trying with all her might to control the tail end. After a few moments of dumbfounded silence, the man carefully eased up.

"All right there mate?"

"Ohhh! My head!" Whimpered the Gator. "I feel like I've drunken an entire billabong full of ginger soda!"

"Wally!" The woman chastised him. "You know what happens to you whenever you eat sugar!"

"But it was licorish! You know how much I love that-th stuff!"

"It's still sugar! Now apologize to the nice people!"

"You're abthoultely right." Wally drew himself up and reached for his head. "Hey! My hat!"

"No worries, mate!" The man pulled a battered white fedora from the waist of his shorts. "You'll be needing a new tie, though. You went completely agro and shredded it."

"Oh dear me!" the Gator cooed mournfully. With hat in hand, he bowed graciously. "Ladies andf gentlemen, I most humbly apologize for my most atrociouth behavior. I hope this won't ruin your family fun! And please, come thee me, and all my cuddly friends, at the Queenthland Zoological Thothiecty!"

The khaki couple proudly patted the Lizard. Then the man leapt to the side, arms out as if he was a showgirl on "The Price Is Right!'2 "Isn't he a little beauty!" The crowd clapped awkwardly as Wally and his human pals climbed into a Land Rover and drove home.

"Slam need new job." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Then perhaps there we can help each other."

Slam turned around, searching for the speaker. Finally, he turned to face a shadowed alleyway, where he could just make out a figure in a red hood and robe.

"My name is Zadovia, and I have a proposition for you."

"Prop…po…sition…" Slam struggled with the unfamiliar word. The scarlet clad figure sighed and patiently reworded her prior statement. "I am looking to hire someone with your…unique talents."

Slam pulled himself up to his full height. He knew what _those_ words meant! "Slam Good Boy!"

The woman in the alley chuckled and held out a hand placatingly. "That's exactly why I chose you, Slam. I need a brave person, strong in body and in deed. You risked your life to save these people. Now, why do you think you did that?"

Slam's brow furrowed. "Slam good boy." He replied a gain, with a shrug. Heroes just did that sort of thing, didn't they? He could hear the smile in her voice as she continued.

"Yes, you'll round out my team of champions quite nicely, Slam Tasmania. She held out a thin tele-board. Slam noticed she seemed to flinch as the warm summer sun illuminated the pale skin. "These are instructions, telling you where to go, and how to get there. The world _needs_ good boys like you, Slam. I fear for a future that doesn't have even one. A great peril will strike Acmetropolis, unless all the good boys and girls come out to play…."

Slam looked up from the tele-board at the cryptic remark, bu there was no one there. Almost as if it had all been a sugar-induced illusion. But the board was real, so with a shrug, he slipped it into his waistband and began his journey to the world capital of Acmetropolis.

_True story! I am the eldest of 3. My youngest sister, K, endured this brilliant torture many times growing up! Just chuck the doll in the closet, and flush the toilet! Voila! Instant trouble!_

_Now in it's 700th season! Now starring the recently thawed body of Boooob Barker! Come on down!_

Can you guess who the khaki kids represent? Yes, it's the Irwins. I humbly apologize for my awful Australian. This part came to me at work today, though Wally Gator was already established as the preemptive 'villian'. Ah, sugar.


	11. Chapter 12: Let's Get Quackin!

Authoress Update: Yep, good ol' writer's block. ….

This took too long. sob Story, why will you not leave meeee?

If you read and review, then I will give you psychic cookies.

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 14: Let's Get Quackin'**

_"You're not the only super-critter in town."_

The slightly lisped words quietly echoed through Ace's brain as his stomach lurched and bounced for a moment. He realized he's closed his eyes, and cautiously he opened them, years of training taking automatic command of his muscles.

"Whoops, heh. Still a little off on the destination."

Ace turned to the orange-fingered waterfowl next to him. "What da hell are you talking about?"

Duck blinked at him for a few moments before breaking out a condescending grin. So he had stumped the bunny, had he? Well, served him right! It was his fault Duck had to embarrass himself like that, and in front of the new boss, too!

"Well, can't you see, my furry little friend? We are no longer in GLA."

Ace made a skeptical face before taking a look around. Duck was right-the alley and their bovine buddy were nowhere to be seen! "What did you do, doc?" he whispered.

"It's _Duck_, not _doc_. Danger Duck, to be more precise!"

"Tahmato, TahMAHto, whatevah! Where are we, and how did we get here?" Ace roared. He disliked not having all the facts, and right now the only one he had was his roiling digestive system.

Duck grew quiet and began to fiddle with his fingertips. "When that comet hit, I was…I…I was doused with a lot of chemicals along with those 'mystery rays' all those 'quacks' (if you'll pardon the pun) are yapping about. After that, I would find myself falling asleep in one wing of the field hospital and waking up in another. I decided to try to hone this ability-"

"Wait, wait, wait…Are you sayin' you can _teleport?"_

"I call it my 'QUANTUM QUACK'!" Duck shouted proudly, striking a grand pose. "I figured this might come in handy, so I've been practicing hopping from one place to another."

A thought crossed the rabbit's mind. "And dat's why I didn't see you on the street, ain't it! You just popped in from outta da blue!"

He was glad to see the bird at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Well, how was **I** to know you were in the mood for steak tartare?" he snapped.

Ace held up his hands placatingly and chuckled. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. But where are we, really?"

"Why, Acmetropolis, of course!"

"Da Capital!"

"No, the planet. **_Of course the Capital_**! That's where the boss lady wanted us to go, isn't it? Only we still have to do some hoofin'. See, I've never 'Quacked' with a passenger in tow, and in exchange for keeping your insides _in_, we're farther off course than I intended."

"How far is 'farther off'?"

"Got a bus pass?" Duck deadpanned.

Ace sighed, and then winced as his stomach revealed that it was done with being nauseous and growled with hunger. "Weeellll…It is almost sunrise, an' I haven't eaten since lunch. So whaddya say we grab some chow on da way?"

Duck rummaged thru a pocket eagerly. Eyeing his treasure, his features grew clouded with disappointment. "All I got is a qwill-forty1-2."

The rabbit looked at his colleague's open hand sadly. "And I wasn't supposed to get paid till afta' my gig."

"You don't have **any** cash?"

"What can I say, doc? I like to travel light. Maybe we'll get lucky and that Zadovia'll have an all-out buffet." Duck nodded in agreement, hopeful at the prospect of a free meal. He wasn't about to let on that it had been days since he had last had a meal larger than a gumball. His 'Quacking' wasn't paying off as well as he thought it would. Few people believed he could do it, and those who had reluctantly agreed watched helplessly as their packages ended up everywhere _but_ their proper destination! _ 'But even Duck Dodgers had to start somewhere.' _ He thought. Then Duck realized that Ace was staring at him expectantly.

"What?"

"Well?" The lagomorph questioned. When the waterfowl just continued to stare blankly at him, he rolled his eyes and sighed irritably. "Get Quackin'! Y'know, do your teleporting thingy!"

"Ohhh!" The bird nodded sagely. "…Um, why?"

Was he really that thick, or was he just trying to test Ace's limit? "Because we aren't at da tower." He spoke slowly and deliberately to ensure the duck wouldn't get lost. "And da tower is where we're supposed to meet the boss lady."

Duck huffed in annoyance. He wasn't some moron off the streets! "Duck understand. But Duck not sure if Duck can get to tower _exactly_. Duck tell Rabbit before that Duck no take passengers."

"Well, how will ya know what you can do unless you try?" An idea came into the bunny's head. Flattery will get them only so far, so clearly it was time for a little reverse psychology. "Ohhh, I get it! You can't do it! Ya should've said sumthin'!"

Danger Duck blinked. What was his new friend implying? Wait a second… "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you implying that I can't teleport? How the hell do you think we got here?"

"Oh, no, I think you can. But obviously, you can only do it, what? Twice at a time? Ya got nothin' left, right?" Ace said with a sly grin. It worked. The avian sputtered in outrage before clamping a hand onto the other's shoulder once ahgain.

"WHY YOU-"

_Boomf!_

**Chapter 15: Broaden Your Horizons**

Lexi grunted as she adjusted the bulky bag onto her shoulder. Getting through the hyper-tight security just to get her luggage was an ordeal in of itself. Now she was a four-foot creature carrying at least seventy-five pounds of excess baggage through a terminal full of surly guards and even surlier passengers. It was nine in the morning, and she had just endured almost ten hours of travel. Why? Because a suspicious woman in a red cloak had offered her a job.

Man, it had better be a good one. That's all she had to say.

"Hey, watch it!" She squealed as a tall man in a wrinkled shirt plowed his briefcase into her, knocking over her rolling luggage. He barely grunted as he moved on, leaving a slight scent trail of perspiration in his wake. With her hypersensitive ears, she heard his dark mutterings of his desire for a stiff drink. She wrinkled her nose at him and righted her luggage, finding herself adjusting her carryon strap for the umpteenth time. She could not _wait_ to get the heck out of there. Amazing how much longer a distance could be when one was loaded down.

"Finally!" she breathed as she reached the hovertaxi station. Miraculously, she managed to flag one down on the first try, and after loading up, climbed into the large pleather interior.

"Where to, girlie?" The cabbie, a Grizzly in a shabby leather coat that was lovingly patched, asked.

"Umm…The Center Plaza? 87417 Center Plaza. The new tower."

"New tower…? There ain't anything in there yet. You sure that's the right place?"

Lexi nodded. "That's what I was given."

With a grunt, he shifted gears, and the meter began to roll. "That tower's pretty big. Can't imagine what it's for." He casually stated, eyeing her in the mirror.

Lexi smiled, picking up the nuances of curiosity. "To be honest, I don't know either. I'm supposed to be meeting someone there."

He grunted again. "A boyfriend, I bet. Never approved of such things, livin' in sin like that. Back in my day…Hmph."

Lexi bit her tongue. The last part was not meant for here to hear, and the guy seemed decent enough. Old-fashioned, but decent. "No…someone gave me a lead on a job and an apartment. Gotta make a living somehow, right?" She smiled her brightest grin.

The Bear guffawed and slapped his knee. "That's right, girlie! Nothing's certain but death and taxes! Now, take this old contraption here…" He patted the steering wheel affectionately, and began to regale his captive audience about his mis-adventures.

Twenty minutes later, Lexi had reached her destination. "How much?" she asked as she opened her wallet. He eyed her up and down before replying.

"Gimmie a 20."

Lexi looked up in surprise. "But…"

He waved her off. "You remind me of my little girl." He pulled out a fading holo-pic of a young ursine. "I ain't seen her much, not since she went off ta school. She's reall smart-private school, y'see." He thought a moment longer. "It wouldn't be right to charge her, so I ain't charging you. Now, you be good, missy, or I'll find ya and charge double!"

And with a quick wink, he lifted off. She watched in amazement as he reared up into traffic. Well, that was unexpected. Wonder what other wonders were coming her way….

**Chapter 16: **

Ace woke with a start. Yawning, he blinked as he wondered where he was. His eyes eventually landed on the muddy orange aura of his new avian companion. Two strong blinks, and the color dissipated, leaving Duck behind in a small puddle of drool.

Ace hesitated to wake him. After all, with his own special brand of 'encouragement', they had teleported throughout the city for several hours. They had then argued for twenty minutes over the moral issues of using fountains as personal ATMs before Ace had succumbed and allowed Duck to pick up a box of donuts and a couple of coffees before falling asleep on top of a ledge of the designated tower.

But now he was awake. But why? Granted, he wasn't exactly a deep sleeper, and cold stone wasn't a comfortable form of bedding, but he couldn't help but feel something was impending. Maybe that Zadovia lady had shown up?

A scuffling kind of sound caught his ears, and he peered over the edge to see a young female rabbit of unusual color straining to pull a heavy suitcase. Ace raised an eyebrow. If this girl was here for the reason he thought she was, then being the leader of a mystery team was looking pretty good!

Lexi growled and tugged even harder on the handle of her oversized suitcase. Regrettably, her parents were a frugal lot, and she had left the farm with fifty-year old luggage. The a/g platform3, as a result, worked in fits and gasps. Muttering a few curses in its direction, she kicked and pulled with all her might, managing to scrape forward a whole half inch. Ace looked on with amusement. He wasn't a sadist-he just knew her type. The kind of girl who was in way over her head, but would rather lop off a limb than admit it to anyone, especially of the male persuasion. He decide to observe just a little longer before helping, curious as to how long she was going to keep tugging at that ancient-looking handle. Turned out to be a short wait, as the fatigued handle popped off in Lexi's hand, launching her backwards towards the cold, hard ground.

One minute she was falling, the next she was staring up into the stranger's smirking blue eyes. "Please get your paws off of me." She spoke politely, but with an icy undertone that she hoped implied she was not interested.

Ace's smirk widened. "Aw, what's the matter, doll face? My 'manly charms' jes' too much for ya ta' take?"

Lexi turned her head away and pinched her nose daintily. "You could say that."

The grey rabbit blushed and pouted, but complied, setting Lexi back on her own feet. Lexi made a show of brushing herself off. "Gosh, lady. I'm sorry, but not everyone can be _springtime fresh_, especially after da night I've had!"

"My name is **Lexi**. Not baby, not doll, not sweetheart, or lady-"

"Hey, dat kinda rhymes-"

"-Whatever! Point is, I'm here on business! I am **not** some cheap good time girl! So go back to the dive bar you burrowed out of!" With a huff, she crossed her arms and turned her back on the gray and yellow furred fellow.

"Yeesh, feminists! Look, One- you were about ta get a cracked skull. I thought you might mind that, but now I see that would have been an improvement on yer manners!"

Lexi whipped around with a gasp of indignation. How **DARE** he speak to her this way! She never asked for his help! Then it happened…. Her nemesis, vertigo, had crossed two time zones to catch her again….

"Two!" Ace continued, oblivious to the subtle change to the girl's aura. "I'm _also_ here on business! I've been sent here to some top-secret work…Hey…You okay!"

In response, Lexi slumped forward into Ace. At least she managed to keep her breakfast inside this time.

"Holy…DUCK!" Ace cried in alarm. From the ledge came a garbled sound.

"Ladies…please…enuff t'go 'round…snnrk…"

"**DUCK**!"

With a annoyed grunt, the waterfowl peered over the side. Smacking his dry beak, he blearily eyed the scene below. "Looking for a room, sir?"

"Very funny. Poof down here with that leftover juice!"

"I don't 'poof'." The bird pouted. "It's my Quantum Quack!"

"Get Down Here!"

"Well, if you're going to use _that_ tone with me-" A red blast singed the tip of his beak. A thin curl of smoke rose up between his crossed eyes. Looking down, Duck saw a _very_ red-eyed rabbit frowning at him.

"Get. Down. Here. **NOW!**"

Sulkily, Duck grabbed the cup in question and with a soft 'Bamf!' disappeared and reappeared on the street below. Ace snatched the cup and tilted Lexi's head back, carefully pouring in the lukewarm orange liquid.

"Nnn….."

"Hey, Ace, looks like your girlfriend's coming 'round."

"…Not his girlfriend…"

Ace smirked with relief. "Well, at least yer awake. We can work on our relationship some other time."

Lexi glared at him, but decided it wasn't worth it. He _had_ been kind enough to help, after all the arguing they'd done. "Gee, thanks."

Carefully, gingerly, she got her weight underneath her, the two males tensed to catch her again. "My name is Lexi. Lexi Bunny. And…I'm sorry I snapped at you. I've had a long trip, and to be honest….I'm not even sure why the hell I'm here."

"Name's Ace. Dis here is 'Danger Duck'. And I'd wager da reason you're here is…dis!" He whipped out a sheet of paper. She immediately recognized the logo and grew angry again.

"How did you get that!" She screeched. "This is personal property!"

"Really?" Ace smiled. This girl was as much fun as the duck, and easier on the eyes!

"As if you didn't know! See, it says right here: To Mr. Ace Bunny."

"…"

"ACE BUNNY?"

He made an over-elaborate bow. "At your service, mademoiselle!"

Lexi just stared in shock, first at the rabbit, then the fowl, then back again. "You…you met…Zadovia?" she whispered quietly.

"We know as much as you do, sister. " Duck replied. The trio spent the next fifteen minutes comparing notes, then another ten talking about relationships and family, which ended abruptly when Lexi pulled out a holo-pic of her larger-than-life brothers.

"So, now that we're here, what happens next? Where are the other members? Wht were we chosen? And how do we get in the Tower?"

"Yeah," Duck cried, "It's not like we can just knock."

"Can't you just teleport in there?"

"I can't-I've never been inside it. I need to have a picture in my head to focus on."

"Yea, and lemme yell ya we loined dat th'hard way."

Duck growled. "Shoot! You'd think this stupid piece of paper-" He snatched Ace's letter and began to wave it around. "-would have instructions on it, But Nooo!"

The trio froze as a soft _whoosh_ came from behind the waterfowl. "Welcome, Ace Bunny. Please enter and await further instructions." Zadovia's voiced cooed over a hidden speaker as two metal doors parted. From where they stood, everything inside was immersed in a milky darkness.

"Should we go in?" Lexi said tentatively. Strainging her ears, she could only pick up the thrum of machinery. "It sounds like it's empty."

Ace drew up his courage. "I am. I'm not gonna force either of ya ta come with me….But, yeah, I am." Drawing a breath, he took a step towards the entrance, not looking behind him. If he was going to be a respected leader, he could not show any nervousness now.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Duck lept in front of him, blue eyes blazing with fury. "You think you're better than us, long ears! Oho, I get it now! You think you're all fine and dandy on your own! HA! Well, listen up, 'pal'-it's not gonna be more than five minutes before I have to 'Quack' your tail out of trouble!" Muttering darkly, he turned up hios beak and walked up to the door. Once there, he turned back to look at him as if to say '_Well'_?

Ace blinked, then a slow grin grew across his features. He turned to Lexi and shrugged. "Guess I can't argue with dat logic!"

The pink lagomorph watched the receding back of the male rabbit. " sigh What did I do to deserve all this craziness?" She moaned. Then she remembered something important. "Hey! What about my luggage! I'm not dragging that damn thing all over the place! HEY!

_Ok, let's talk payola! After the demise of the peny, American inflation rates skyrocketd. Despite thise, the United States was the most vocal opponbent of a single world currency. They eventually capiulated when the rest of the world, in a grand show of force, blackballed international trade. To nurse theirhurt pride, the United States insisted that the largest denomination carry the image of Elias Qwilleran, the 1st black president of the United States, who died heroically. Fed up with the whining, the World Council conceded. The Qwill, as it is known, comes in 5 denominations: 1000, 5000, 10000, 20000, and 50000. Each is minted in a different color bearing Elias Qwilleran's profile on the front bordered with his last words; "It Was an Honor To Serve." On the back is the World Council Building flanked by 2 doves carrying olive branches .Next down is known commonly as the 'Teddy'. It is valued at 250 Qwill, and officially known as a Ducket The front image is that of Teddy Ruxpin XXV, a soft-spoken advocate for world-wide civil rights until his assassination by the anti-antho 'Pink & Clean' extremist organization of the late 20th century. The back simply states the coin's worth, and it is bronze coated zinc. The oddly named 'Bit' is worth 50 Qwill. This coin is shaped almost exactly like a screw nut, octagonal with a hole in the center. It is also bronze coated. A favorite pastime of teenagers is to carry their bits on a wire around their neck, which called a' cervi-wallet'. Originally this practice was created as a way for thrifty mothers to prevent their children from losing their lunch money. Now the number of bits indicates financial status. Ironically, less is more, and the richest of children will wear only 1 lone bit, if any at all. Last is the whimsically named 'Roundy'. This thin, rust colored biodegradable plastic circle is the penny of its day. In fact, that is why it was introduced-to prevent the rapid rising of inflation rates once more. It's worth a paltry 10 Qwill. The ones found floating in the World center fountain add up to a whopping 20000 in an average month!_

_Tthe present day equivalent would be $1040.00. However, it's real worth would be $1.25. In a world where a small cup of coffee is close to 5000 Qwill (Q5000), Duck and rabbit are in for a hungry walk!_

_A/G platforms :Anti-Gravity Platforms. Also known as Hoverers, AGPs, and Floats. A electrical device that creates a sort of magnetic field that keeps the attached item up to 3" above solid ground. Although 75 years ago it was common to see these on public transportation, it has been all but obliterated in favor of the Skimmitt's Field Disruption Oscillator._

Can you guess who the khaki kids represent? Yes, it's the Irwins. I humbly apologize for my awful Australian. This part came to me at work today, though Wally Gator was already established as the preemptive 'villian'. Ah, sugar.


	12. Chapter 17: Love In An Elevator?

Authoress Update: The biggest blocker is the fact I haven't been watching the show (is it even still on?). If only I could figure out how to convince my TV and DVD player to work together. It's hard to be inspired, y'know? Plus, well, in a minor way, we've had **really** bad weather 'round here this October. And now Christmas is slithering up, and I'm…not financially secure. :D

For those of you still desperately clinging to the hope of a completed story somewhere w/in the decade- Happy Halloween, Happy Thanksgiving, Happy Holidays, Shalom, Konnichiwa. Just enjoy.

If you read and review, then I will give you virtual chocolate chip cookies-no trans fats!

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 17: Love in an Elevator?**

The battle over the luggage was mercifully brief, and now Lexi was smugly leaning against it as Ace and Duck cautiously milled around. The room they were in was all sleek metal, and rather…cavernous. _Large enough to hold an entire league of superheroes_, she mused.

They were, however, alone. No amount of straining on her part could tell otherwise. This turnout had been…well, disappointing. Lexi had envisioned being welcomed by a throng of shapely, well-cut, spandexed contemporaries with impossible brilliant smiles. Idly, she wondered if the boys had thought the same.

Ace straightened up from his crouched position with a sad sigh. He felt something of a loss, like a child whose parents reneged on Christmas Day promise. Truly, he hadn't known what to expect, but he **had** thought he'd end up on familiar ground. The gray rabbit let his eyes wander, first over to hid inexperienced feathered friend, then over (and a little longer on) the young female. She was going to be a pip; of that much he was sure. Though, sadly, she was quite a bit smarter than Duck. She'd already wised up to his little mind games. Ah well.

"What a fine kettle of fish this is!" Duck snapped irritably. "One giant, **humongous** tower, and we're stuck in the service quarters!" He struck a melodramatic pose. "Is this anyway to treat the savior of Acmetropolis?"

"_Savior?_" Lexi sputtered. With a cheeky grin, Ace slipped a conspiratorial arm over the girl's shoulder.

"Why, sure, doll! Dontcha recognize da military's finest when ya sees it? Dat's how we met, right Duck? Youse was practicin' some of dose top secret maneuvers!"

Lexi smirked right back. "Ah, of course! I should've guessed by the orange sauce!" She gestured to the fowl's brightly colored plumage before lightly but firmly slugging Ace in the gut. "And **_don't_** call me doll."

Ace grinned madly. Now he had a bead on this girl-she was not only smart, she wasn't afraid to mince words or establish her boundaries. In short, everything he'd like in a second-in-command! Oh sure, he and the waterfowl had known each other longer. But there was a 'yellow' streak in his aura Ace didn't trust just yet.

"_Harrumph_. Well, I suppose I can't expect untrained _plebeians _to comprehend the genius that is yours truly. BUT MARK MY WORDS! This little black duck-!"

"A-hem…?" Lexi intoned expectantly.

Duck sighed irritably before re-striking his pose of defiant grandeur. "This little _black-and-orange_ duck is going places! The world is my oyster! Yes sir, the only way from here is UP!"

Before his echo could even begin to fade away, the room began to shudder. "Going up." A pleasant voice informed from a tiny speaker. The rumbling grew louder, and then the sensation of being lifted quickly became painfully obvious to Lexi, who was forced to clutch her head as the pressure increased.

"Lexi? You okay?" She looked up to see two pairs of worried eyes, but she could barely nod.

"Duck! You look after her! If trouble shows up, 'Quack' yourselves outta here tout suite!"

Danger Duck, eager to play the part of the manly hero (and secretly relieved to have a valid excuse for avoiding a fight), swiftly gathered her in close. "Aye, Aye, Mon Capitan! Leave it to Danger Duck, Protector of the Innocent, Defender of the Weak, to take care of this fragile femme from the malevolently masked machinations-"

"Are you _always_ this annoying??"

Ace glanced over his shoulder to her. "As long as I've known him!" He replied brightly.

"Ha ha, very cute. Fine, see what I care. But don't come crying to me when three or four dozen bad guys come running and calling for your blood. _I'll_ be long gone by then."

The pressure had ebbed enough that Lexi felt strong enough to stand again. But she was still quite irritable. "What a refreshing way to say you're a coward. Anyway, this tower's deserted."

Ace stared in surprise. "How's dat again??"

"There's just the three of us in here. Or else everyone's got on _really_ good slippers."

"How-"

She smiled and directed the boy's attention to an oft-overlooked part of her anatomy-her pink ears, still tied together at the base with a frayed green ribbon. "My ears. Ever since that crazy night with the meteor, my hearing's been incredible. Well, it was always incredible. Now I guess you could call it exceptional."

"So you sayin' you got super-sonic hearing?"

"Honey, I can hear a cricket breaking wind three cities over." Lexi smirked at the dropped jaws in front of her. Just the effect she was going for! "I have big brothers." She slipped a holo-plate1 from her pocket and held it out. Ace and Duck glanced at the image- Lexi surrounded by three massive, headless torsos- before passing should-we-even-be-looking-at-her looks and stepping back carefully, as if they were to pop out of the screen and beat them senseless.

Fortunately, they were saved by the elevator's sudden, grunting stop. A pneumatic _hiss_ accompanied the smooth glide of the doors, and the trio stepped into an even larger room. Again, it was totally metal, with smooth-faced monitor interfaces2 blinged3 with tiny lights and buttons circling the outer wall. Three stairwells poured like a gentle waterfall to a lower section. The centerpiece of this section was a round table, divided into sections. Each section was outfitted with an LCD monitor; another smooth-faced monitor interface was embedded onto the counter. Soft, pleasant humming filled the air, the occasional _chirp_! Or _beep_-_beep_! Adding to the symphony.

"Sheesh! It's like a nerd's Christmas wish list come true!" Duck squeaked in awe.

"Ace… ACE!"

"Yeah, Lexi, I'm right next t'ya! What is it?"

"We're not alone!"

"But you said-"

"There's another elevator coming up on the other side! And I can hear **_two_** heartbeats!!"

-o-

_Holo-Plate: A thin, ipod-like device. It has a rather large screen that can show digital pictures in either the traditional flat format, or in 3-D._

_Smooth-faced Monitor Interface (Smooth MI): Think Star Trek: TNG, and you'll know **exactly** what I'm talking about._

_Blinged: I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself._

Ooo, who could it be? I get a kick writing for Duck and Ace. They can come so naturally, and still be amusing when I flip back and forth time after time. Yes, this is a single chapter, but at least you have it!


	13. Chapter 18 Two Pair

Authoress Update: 'Hey', you're thinking, 'déjà vu!'

And you're right. After posting the original, I went back and re-read it. And decided it was too rough. Kinda choppy. No flow, as it was.

So I've lengthened it, and changed a few scenarios, and added another chapter to hopefully keep you guys dangling lol.

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 18: Two of Hearts, One of A Kind**

"There's another elevator coming up on the other side! And I can hear **_two_** heartbeats!!"

"What? Are ya sure?" Ace's heart sank to his stomach.

"Yes, positive! I can hear two separate heartbeats. One…I think one is taller than the other…they're both beating kinda fast…" Lexi opened her eyes and stared a warning to Ace. "In my experience, that's usually a sign of anxiety or agitation."

"Can ya tell anyt'ing else about 'em?"

"I don't have bionic eyes, Ace. I can't _hear_ anything that sounds like a weapon, if that helps."

"So we're in da dark, huh?" She nodded slightly. Maybe leaving the farm wasn't the stellar an idea she'd thought it'd be…

"Oh, well, that's just dandy." Duck curled his beak into a worried sneer. "What kind of welcome is _this_ for a great hero?"

"When I meet one I'll be sure ta ask him." Ace quipped, sending his female cohort into an appreciative snort.

The waterfowl glared at the lagomorphs. "Very droll. For all we know, these two could be some sort of brute squad! Here to kill us, and mash our bones inta bread!!" He imitated a pestle and mortar with his hands for effect. "They'll put out severed heads on the walls!!"

"Or maybe they're a couple of guys who got letters like _we_ got!" Ace chastised. But Duck was too deep in his melodramatic despair to bother with an alternate interpretation.

Oh hoho!!!" he wailed. "They're probably villainous duck-eating pond scum dwellers from the swamps of Timbuktu! _GASP_ !! AND I'M THE ONLY DUCK HERE! Oh hohoho!!! I'm too young to be eaten!!" Roughly, he shoved Lexi forward, "Here! Eat her, and spare _me_!!!"

"Hey!!" She squealed as she pitched forward into Ace.

"Not cool, Duck!" Ace was pissed. Being concerned about your own welfare was one thing, but pushing a girl was just plain cowardice in his book! "Panicking like dat ain't helping the situation!"

Behind them, a cheery _ding_ and a red light alerted them to the fact the other elevator had arrived. "And now, t'anks ta _you_, we don't have time ta make up a plan!"

The doors _hissed_ open, and two dark shapes could be made out in the bleaching light of the shaft. The trio held their breath, each taking a defensive stance unconsciously.

Cautiously, the strangers entered, warily eyeing both the mostly metal surroundings and the 'welcome wagon' ahead of them. A tall, lanky, bright green canine, and a short, muscular, purple Tasmanian Devil1. The latter was panting and drooling heavily as his eyes went helter-skelter. The former kept his golden eyes squarely on Ace, but each could see the tension in the shoulders of the other.

"Eh, what's up, doc?" Ace ventured, cautiously holding out a hand.

The canine had been about to clasp the offered hand, but now halted his progress and blinked. "How did you know I was a doctor?" He asked in surprise.

"Uhh…" was Ace's intelligent reply. "Ta be honest, I didn't!"

The canine was confused. "Then how did you know-"

"He's a comedian. He thinks it's funny." Lexi offered.

"I. see…" he replied, still somewhat mystified.

"Yes, ha-ha. We yuk it up all da time here in da mystery tower. Look, I take it ya got a notice from an odd human woman named-"

"Zadovia? Yes, she recruited me almost a week ago. I can only imagine this…gentleman I met outside was as well."

"#$#$ #$# Pbbbbtt!!!!"

"Ah, yes. Of course." He smiled politely.

"I see." Tech shot a 'do-you-get-it?' glance to the equally flustered trio. "At any rate, allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Tech E. Coyote. I hold a doctorate in physics, biology, chemistry, and dabble heavily in several other scientific branches. I am an excellent mechanic, I was in the top two percent of my class at Borosilicate University, and I was in line to be either a tenured professor at Acmetropolis University or a government scientist at a company which, sadly, I _still_ cannot name."

"My, aren't _we_ the egghead." Duck groused and pouted.

Tech's eyes widened in horror, and he placatingly put up his hands. "Oh, I'm not trying to be a braggart! I simply assumed you'd want to be aware of my qualifications, of what I can 'bring to the party', to use the common vernacular."

Ace smiled and held out a friendly hand. "Well, every team needs a smart guy to create all da fancy gadgets! I'm Ace, Ace Bunny. And dis is Lexi-"

"Hi."

"Enchanted to meet you, Miss Lexi." Tech bowed low over her hand (you can take the boy from his mother…) as he spoke, his voice gentle and warm as sunshine. Which irked Ace and Duck more than a bit. After all, _they_ were there first!

Lexi giggled, pleased by the gentlemanly attention. "A pleasure, I'm sure! Welcome to the team!"

"-And ova' here is Mr. Danger Duck!" Duck froze in the middle of his silent mocking of the girl's girly response. Caught in an awkward moment, he could only blush and wave sheepishly. "Now, dat only leave one of us unaccounted for." Ace stepped over to the purple marsupial. "And who might you be, my purple pal?"

"#$#$$#$ SLAM!!!" The purple critter spun between the rabbit and the coyote, grinning maniacally. When he stopped, he panted heavily and looked expectantly at the rabbit. Ace was at a loss-the devil was impossible to understand2.

"#$#$$#$ SLAM!!!!" He repeated with growing annoyance.

"Um, Slam, was it?" Lexi tried meekly. Her recent experiences in psychology had taught her that short, strong people could be easily vexed if perceived understanding was lacking. Not to mention Tazzie devils were notorious carnivores! "Pleased to meet you, big guy. So, uh, what do you, y'know, bring to the team?"

A _majorly_ toothy grin spread on his face. "SLAM! SLAM!! $$#$#$#$!!!!" In joy, he spun around the group and around the room in, knocking over several chairs in his tornado-like motion before coming to a halt in front of the largest, heaviest looking piece of equipment in the room-a large computer center. With the ease of a toddler lifting a toy, and about as much enthusiasm, hoisted it over his head in triumph. "SLAAAAAAM GOOD BOY!!"

"Like anyone's gonna argue with him?" Duck quipped as they all stared slack-jawed. His point understood, Slam threw the silicate equipment back down, where it became a jumbled mass of hissing, smoking junk.

"I can fix that." Tech quietly replied.

_Hey, wait a sec…_A realization struck Ace. He'd seen that move somewhere before… "Hey, I know you!!" Ace straightened with an admiring grin as it all clicked. "You're Slam Tasmania, da wrestler, aint'cha! I saw you on da television when I got insomnia, on da Amateur's Amateur Ring Federation show!"

Slam danced up and down with joy, but he was careful not to break anything else. "$#$#$$#$$#!!!!!!!! Slam dunk! Slam dunk!!" With that, he imitated a pile drive for the others, who chuckled appreciatively.

"Well, whaddya know. We got brains and brawn in one fell swoop." Lexi elbowed the coyote gently with a wink, eliciting a smile from the gentleman. "Add that to the token female, the fearless leader, and the comic foil-"

"Hey! What are you looking at me for?!" Duck shrieked

"-And I think we've got your standard team of comic book heroes, huh?"

"I only wish this was as simple as a comic book, Miss Bunny."

A soft red and yellow glow began to form from the center of the largest table. Quickly, the lights shifted and swirled together until a feminine form emerged, staring down at the quintet like a Madonna before an acolyte.

"Zadovia?"

"Greetings, Loonatics."

**Chapter 18: Boss Lady, Ma'am**

"Welcome, my friends, to your new headquarters. I hope you have found your way here with minimal trouble?"

"New headquarters?" Acecried out in shock. "Whoa, lady, we all just got here, and now yer telling us thins whole place is **ours**?"

Zadovia smiled warmly. "Of course! It would be awfully awkward if there were a team of heroes on every floor, now wouldn't it? And it would be far too dangerous to allow civilians entrance."

"And government agencies are too nosey." Tech smiled knowingly.

"Indeed. Will you all please have a seat?" Six chairs unfolded from the floor with a pneumatic _hiss_ and pulled back to allow space to sit.

"Six chairs…" Tech noted. "Are we to expect another member?"

"I thought it prudent to allow room for our little group to grow." She cast a hard look at Duck. "And I see we have already sprouted something."

Duck was rather mortified-he was the only one there that didn't have an official letter! That gave them the right to kick his feathered behind onto the street! "_ Gulp Or worse!"_ he thought miserably.

"What? Danger Duck?" Ace spoke quickly and brightly to offset the questioning glances the other _anthros_ were now giving the bird. "Boy, it was lucky for me dat you sent him-it woulda taken me days ta get here! Yep, a **_teleporter_** is a darned good thing ta have on a team, right Duck?" He squeezed the bird's shoulders as a cue to agree. Ace had gotten him into this mess, and for all the guy's obvious faults, he was damned if he was going to get humiliated in front of the fledgling team. That was _his_ job.

"Uh…Yeah…."

Zadovia scowled in thought. "Teleporter…." She quoted quietly. "Yes, Ace….it was lucky." The tone in her voice implied that she understood the rabbit's designs; damn well didn't like it, but was too cultured to say otherwise. "At any rate, we've much more important things to discuss. I'm sure you're wondering who I am, and what's this all about?"

"Da thought **did** cross our minds."

"I fear I cannot reveal my identity at this time, as it is far too dangerous both to you, and our mission. Suffice to say, I am fully prepared to give any moral and financial assistance you may need for this endeavor."

"Financial….!" Dollar signs practically ran around Duck's head. "That means… giant mansions! Fast cars! Trophy wives!! Whoo-hoo!" He jumped out of his seat and attempted to kiss the hologram's feet. "Boss lady, may I say you're looking particularly lovely this evening? Now, whilst we're on the equally delicate topic, I'd like to know what kind of benefits package we're talking about-WHOOUF!!"

"_Knock it off, will ya?_" Ace growled as the money-grubber readjusted his collar. "Eh, as you were saying, Miss Zadovia." He said politely.

She smiled fondly at him. "Please call me Zadovia. And for the record, you will each receive a packet containing all the benefits and salary pertaining to your positions, always available for re-evaluation as time presses on.."

"$$#? Why Slam here?" Slam grunted.

"Hey, he can talk!" Duck squealed.

"SHHH!!"

"Oh right, like _you_ weren't surprised." He pouted.

"Patience, friends! Perhaps I should get down to business. I wouldn't want to create dissension _this_ early in the game. My mission is simple: to encourage the continuation of a peaceful, prosperous, and happy Acmetropolis."

"Make me prosperous, and _I'll_ be happy!" Duck muttered softly,

"As the lot of you are quite aware of, the meteor that struck a few years ago unleashed major changes to both planet and populace. You all have discovered that somehow your bodies can do incredible things-things that give you the edge over the average _anthro_ or _homo sapiens_."

"And you're afraid we would misuse them?" Lexi asked.

"No. She's implying that others might." Tech answered.

"Indeed. My reason for financing this tower, and employing you, is to be proactive about this potentially lethal threat."

"But …uh, Zadovia, isn't dat type of woik sumthin' for da army ta handle? Dey got hundreds of specialized forces-dere's just five of us!"

"Yes, I realize that, Ace. But few in the military are prepared for these empowered beings, or even willing to acknowledge they exist! I have strong reason to believe that there are _many_ more beings, transformed by that disastrous day, capable of creating chaos on _at least_ a citywide basis. To that end, I decided an equally empowered team, dedicated to the same ideals, was the best way to thwart this increasing threat. Unfortunately, as I said, the military and the government do not see things my way."

"So we're operating outside the government?"

Zadovia nodded. "Keeps the red tape to a minimum, I daresay." Suddenly, an undulating red light flooded the room, accompanied by an urgent klaxhorn.

"What da…?"

"Are we under attack?"

"Wha-ho!! We're gonna die!!"

"#$#$#!"

The quintet became alarmed, and started talking at once in confusion. All save Tech, who was staring intently at the screen in front of him. It had begun listing various bits of information, and the scientist went on automatic and began to study.

"Oh dear." Zadovia sighed. "I had hoped to give you more time to acclimate to all this beforehand."

Ace's eyes widened with growing comprehension. "You don't seriously mean…"

"It's a trial-by-fire, Ace." She apologized. "But know this-your fate is always in your hands, not mine. My sources have given you the necessary information, there is transportation three stories above, fully fueled and prepped. The exit is one elevator ride down-you need only give the word. All I ask is that you never reveal this operation."

They _anthros_ looked at each other, trying to gauge the other's intents. No one really wanted to go and fight, but no one wanted to be the first to quit either. Finally, Ace drew up his pluck, and set his face into strength and determination.

"I'm in. I may not be a Navy SEAL, but I got enough training to try! Besides, I can't go back to da military anyway-not after dat little incident at the Chinese theater."

"Well, using that logic, I suppose I'll add my services after all. As a scientist, I might come in handy. I'm…a little unsure about the fighter part…" Tech blushed lightly as he gave a small, apologetic shrug.

"Dat's okay, doc-er, _Doc_. I'll fight for da both of us, if need be!"

"SLAM GOOD BOY!!!"

Ace cleaned out his ear as Lexi clamped her hands to her ears, her face contorted with pain. "Eh, I guess dat means your with us. Well, anyone else? Duck? Lexi?"

She shrugged. "I know some karate. My brothers made me learn. I made it to yellow belt!"

"Well then, dat just leave you, Duck. You in…or out?"

Now Duck was really in a pickle. Mortal danger was not among his 'top one hundred things to be in' list. Despite Zadovia's promise, there was no way to get out of this with dignity, especially if you're the only one to back out! He could say he wasn't really a member, that he never received an actual invitation. But then he'd really be a quitter and a phony, wouldn't he? A pretender to the throne of glory.

What would happen if he left? Would he spend his days as a pool boy, watching as the others received accolades and awards as he scrubbed out another chemi-scrubber3? To fetch soggy diapers and highballs for spoiled customers who under tipped because the ice was shaved, not chipped? But what if he stayed? He could be maimed, or even killed! But he could also live his childhood fantasies. _Be_ Duck Dodgers, not just in thought but in deed!

….Ah well, he could always fake an injury, right?

"Yea, yea, I'm in." He replied with much swagger and bravado. "Someone's got to keep your hide in one piece, long ears."

"Mr. Duck!" Zadovia chastised. "While serving as a member of this team, you will refrain from any type of uncouth behavior!"

"Eh, forget about it, Miss Zadovia" Ace slipped a casual arm around the waterfowl. "It's just a kinda male bonding, _right, Flatfoot?_"

"Yeah right." He grumbled.

"…All right then. We've wasted too much time as is to argue the point further. Take the elevator up to the one hundred and eighth floor. There is a personal aircraft fueled and primed for you. There is also some armor to protect you, as well as some weaponry. All pertinent information will be directed to you, Dr. Coyote, as I believe you will best be able to interpret it all."

"I'm honored by your confidence, Miss Zadovia."

"It's well placed, I assure you. Now, be safe, friends, and return victorious!"

"All right! You guys heard da lady!! Let's move!"

_Hee! You guys all thought it'd be TechRev!_

_So is God, for that matter. But let's not go there, shall we?_

_Chemi-scrubber: High end pool equipment. Basically, a set of charged metal plates attract waterborne chemicals in the same way a Brita does. Except these work on pools, lakes, and other large bodies of water. They need regular maintenance, esp. in heavily and or recurrently polluting areas. This type of work would be a shoo-in for Mike Rowe in present-day terms of attractiveness._

Is it any better?


	14. Chapter 20: Come Fly With Me

Authoress Update:  I'm going insane.

Well, not really. But I'm having a bad block here. I know what I want, but I'm having a hard time trying to keep the train from derailing between point A and point B. But I **DO** appreciate you guys who are still loitering in the lobby, and a "thank you deeply" to the guys who have tucked this epic into your favorite stories folders.

That **really** made my day. Hope I don't disappoint!!!

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 20: Come Fly With Me**

As promised, there **was** an aircraft nestled in the one hundred and eighth floor. And what a craft it was. All five _anthros_ momentarily forgot the potentially lethal mission ahead as they snuggled into the heated seats and admired the sparkling LCD screens. It was obvious this Zadovia character had spared no expense.

"Aero-thermal circulation1 …ABS systems…. Mmm, only standardized GPS? Oooh! Plasma cannons with infrared guidance capabilities? I thought they were still in theory!!"

Ace and Lexi smiled at each other from the front seats at Tech's fanatic mutterings. "Eh, Ya t'ink Christmas came a l'il early for someone?" Lexi chuckled in reply.

A soft buzz, followed by some static came over the multitude of screens, to be replaced by the holographic image of Zadovia. "Greetings, friends. I have pre-recorded this message to assist you. Before anything else is said or done, please don one of the armor suits hanging in the back of the plane."

Slam, being closest, pulled out the suits and handed them out, panting a bit lecherously as Lexi came up to claim hers. She quickly snatched the garment, and gave him a dirty look as she backed away.

"Hey, dese are military knock-offs!" Ace cried in dismay as he examined the material. _Only slightly better than what they give the rookies_, he thought miserably.

"I regret that these suits are 'gifts' from the military." Zadovia cooed in the background. "Suffice to say, they will work, and I am in the process of commandeering more suitable attire worthy of planetary super beings such as yourself."

"Guess she blew the budget on the ride, huh?" Duck grumbled. The armor suit was a dull gray, with darker gray padding. Hideous. How was he supposed to become a celebrity if he blended in with the faceless plebes?

"Cool it, Duck. At least ya won't become tomorrow's special at the Chow Lien!"

"Once you are dressed," Zadovia smiled on, "Please take a seat, and place your hand on the panel on your left." After a few minor squabbles with Duck ("I'm the bird! I should be the one to fly!"), they sat and did as told. A thin red line scanned from fingertip to palm before sliding open to reveal a watch-sized object.

"These communicators will enable you to stay in contact should you become separated or incapacitated. They are GPS-enabled, and possess shielding capabilities. But be warned-the shields can only deflect so much, and for so long."

"THP!#WHA$!!" Slam snarled worriedly.

"I ain't sure what you just said, buddy, but I hear ya!"

"Be careful, and good luck!" Zadovia's image chirped happily before blinking out. At that exact moment, the engine roared to life. Ace gasped and automatically grabbed the controls. With a low growling sound, the wall ahead of them parted, exposing them to the orangey-red light of afternoon.

"Well, gang? Are we ready?" He asked, trying to keep the edge to his voice minimal.

"I guess."

"#$!!"

"Get on with it already!"

"All set here, Chief."

'Den let's jet! Time ta save da woild!!!" Ace pressed the controls forward (thankfully, the military had already given him some time on the aviation simulator!), and within moments, the quintet was on their way to destiny…

"Man, dis is one smooth ride!" Ace said proudly fifteen minutes later. "I can practically fly dis thing by thinking!"

At his side, Lexi granted him a quick, wan smile. While Ace had settled into his role as pilot with an enviable grace, Lexi was a bundle of nerves. She never really cared for traveling, especially when potentially lethal danger was at the end of it! Her heart was pounding in her ears like a tymphoni2 drum, her palms were sweaty and she was feverish.

Lexi focused her attention on her new comrades-or rather, their bodies. There was a general sense of tension all around (save for Ace, naturally), but some seemed more affected. Duck, for example, seemed to waver from perfect calm to abject terror minute to minute. On the other hand, Tech regulated his breathing whenever his heart rate began to speed up. Since Slam's method of relaxation consisted of chewing on his chair's headrest, she opted to use the genius' technique. Closing her eyes, she tried to match his biorhythms and immediately, she felt her temperature lower.

_BeepbeepBeepbeep!!!!_ Lexi was jolted out of her trance by the high sound, almost hitting a switch labeled 'eject' by her pinky. _"Yea, that's all I need-to be blasted all the way home in a military knock-off"_

"My friends," Zadovia purred urgently, "I have more information for you. You're target is a former scientist known as Professor Vinn Price."

"Vinn Price?!" Tech exclaimed. "I _know_ him! A screwball if there ever was one!"

"Why's dat?"

"He had these delusions that he was the actual descendant of the _fictitious_ Dr. Frankenstein! He embezzled large sums of money in an attempt to reanimate the dead!"

"Ew, gross!" Lexi squealed, scrunching her face in distaste.

"I fear he has not given up on that desire, Tech. He has been recently found guilty of trying to blackmail doctors at Acmetropolis' First Ward Hospital to gain access to the morgue."

"Wait a second there, sister! If he was found guilty, that means they already caught the guy! So whaddya trying to pull here?" Duck's chest puffed with the air of superiority one achieves when one catches the accused in an outright lie.

Zadovia gave the fowl an irritated look. "Yes, he _was_ captured, and stood trial. But as the police were taking him to a maximum-security center, he managed to summon a large robot and use it to escape. _That_ is why I have called you into action-to put this dangerous man out of harm's way!"

Duck managed to look sheepish and indignant at the same time. His very essence seemed to deflate like a poorly deflated balloon-one could practically hear the wheezy sound. "Hmph!" He sniffed as he turned back to the blinking control panel.

"Eh, don't worry-we'll get him before dinnahtime, Zadovia! Just leave it to us!"

Zadovia smiled warmly. "I shall keep it warm for all of you. Be safe, my friends. Zadovia out."

Quickly the jet slipped through the airspace southwards. As the ships trackers listed the current position and aligned them with Zadovia's coordinates, a look of consternation grew in Tech's golden eyes.

"Hey guys…. I think I know where we're heading. No, check that- I _know_ where we're heading - to the city of Borasilica."

"Borasilica? Isn't that Nerd Central or somethin'?"

The coyote glared at the impertinent waterfowl. "Borasilica is Acmetropolis's premier educational facility. Only the greatest minds are allowed to teach, and the entry requirements are some of the steepest around!"

"Spoken like a true alumnus, Tech!" Ace teased. "But I thought da city was abandoned and evacuated. What would he be doing dere?"

"The University was funded by many of the leading pharmaceutical, chemical, and info-tech companies of the world in an effort to have dibs on the most cutting edge students-_and_ their inventions."

"I get it. Yesterday's homework assignment becomes tomarrah's million dollar moneymaker!"

"Exactly. _And_ _one other thing _– it was rumored that the military had it's fingers in the pot as well. And yes, they evacuated the city and declared it 'unlivable', but a _lot_ of my colleagues have speculated that was a cover-up so they could secure any remaining information and technology of sensitive natures without raising suspicion."

"So you're thinking our buddy, the nutty professor, is after da technology?"

"Stands to reason. He was mocked by his peers, has a _major_ God complex, and a very high IQ. What would you do?"

Ace cast the coyote a worried look before a display demanded his attention. "Looks like dis it it, gang! Get ready, cuz we're about to land!!"

_Aero-thermal Circulation: A propulsion system where small tanks of propane are initially used for thrust. Afterwards, it generates a small amount of energy for a pair of high-powered vacuums to suck in air at tremendous force. The air pressure causes turbines to spin and thus create power to all other systems. This system creates minimal biohazards, but is most efficient on large sized crafts. The average hover-car uses a biofuel created by chemical reactions not unlike composting. _

_Timphoni drum: I'm referring to the type of drum known for it's deep bass sound. If you've seen Spaceballs: the Movie, you've heard/seen it... "Give Me…dun dundun dun….LUDICRIOUS SPEED!"_


	15. Chapter 21: Meanwhile, A World Away

Authoress Update: So here it is. The chaspter that demanded to be told, despite my intentions of getting right into the action. But then I suppose if I let Rev just join, I'd be doing the same mistakes the series did, wouldn't I?

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 21: Meanwhile, A World Away**

On top of a pointed peak, about forty miles outside Borasilica, a lone, thin, sad figure stood, one hand resting on the gnarled trunk of a scrawny, fire-damaged tree. It was as if the figure was trying to give comfort to a grieving friend at a graveside service.

And, in part, it was - for Rev at least. Save that the service never ended, the coffin still in plain view waiting for the warm sand to put it to rest inside the earth it came from.

"_A dead world. A dead, useless, worthless world. It's not fair!" _Rev's inner voice wailed to him. _"It wasn't supposed to be this way!!"_

After the visible fires had been put out and any radiation leaks sealed and clean, Rev, like nearly all of the full-time residents of Borasilica, had expected to return home-or at least to what was left of it-and resume the daily grind of nourishing and nursing the academic wheels of Four Corners University. So it was a major surprise and upset when all the academic and governmental officials declared the city unsafe and inhospitable. What ever you had left with, the citizens were told, was all you had. There would be no trips back. And to add insult to injury, the military installed a fleet of roverbots1, quick and sure-sighted, in the city ruins. Their swarm-like ways were quickly learned and feared by the individuals who dared try to penetrate the barbed wire borders. That had left Rev with no income, no possessions, and nowhere to go but the one place he had so desperately tried to escape- the backwater village of San Gonzales2.

San Gonzales. Once, centuries ago, it had been home to a warm, close-knit community of Roadrunners. Hampered only by the occasionally successful Coyote, the community thrived well enough to attract other desert denizens- gerbils, mice, reptiles, and owls. The non-runner population swelled, but the runners' never minded, so long as there was the freedom of the road, and in fact delighted in the pride their stationary neighbors had in their hard-won successes, and mourned in sympathy when Ch'ikii-t'iishi3 came calling instead. The center of their world was a spire of reddish-orange rock that seemed to touch the azure skies. For the runners, it was home base-wherever you ran _to_, that was the point you ran _from_. It was never empty, as one family lived there a short time before leaving it to another family.

Eventually, the humans came. Misunderstanding the roadrunners ways, and not really caring about the non-human populace, they called the region theirs, and set up a government and system of land ownership. The sacred spire became the home to the chiefs and their successors. Both parties grew frustrated, as the humans were constantly shooing the birds out of 'Their God-Given Home'. History and prejudice eventually forced the evacuation of the village, but the incoming settlers found the land too arid for crops, not enough water for big cattle, and no precious metals. And so San Gonzales was returned to the roadrunners in time for the birth of a hero- the 'Purple Bullet'.

And through him, came Rev Runner. Ironically cursed by cherished blood, little Rev had desired nothing greater than to escape the backwater village and outshine his ancestor. But the tiny schools in his area were woefully outdated-even the meatloaf special was rumored to be fifty years old. And the best-paid jobs belonged to 'city-slickers' with enough skeletons in their closets to be considered too big a liability, but too valuable to their companies to be let go. Like the humans before them, they tried to elbow out the current populace in an effort to 'green up the desert' with condos, Mcmansions, and well-trimmed golfing greens. Fortunately, this time the desert itself was an endangered species, and any politician worth his salt knew better than to upset voters by allowing further destruction.

And so, thanks to campaign slogans like "No New Development!" and a closely guarded job pool, Rev felt he was denied a shot at success and glory. And so, when he turned seventeen, despite his mother's pleadings, he packed his bags and moved into a tiny apartment in downtown Borasilica, becoming a delivery boy for no less than three employers at a time, just to make ends meet. Tips were lousy, the other employees made him the butt of their jokes, and his employers were fond of inventing reasons why his pay needed to be docked. Through it all, Rev remained optimistic that the recognition he craved was just around the bend, if he could only push a little harder each day. In the few moments he could catch, he poked and tinkered with small gizmos, with the few Qwills he could spare, he picked up tattered manuals and pored over them with the same relish fans of British literature had over a first edition Harry Potter book.

Then the meteor came, bringing the little bird untold amounts of speed, at the cost of losing all the family he ever had. Oh yeah, and he was bright red again too.

"Thisissolame.Ican'teventalknormalanymore! Heh,notlikeanyonewouldeven_want_totalktomeinthefirstplace."

Taking a final glance at the ruined city, the long-legged bird ran from the burnt-out outskirts of Borasilica five hundred miles away to his little hometown. As Rev sped down the main dirt road, dust devils churned up, causing several gerbils to rant over their once-clean laundry.

Rev did not stop however, not until he reached the tattered wood and wire fencing that surrounded his ancestral home. There was still an essence of majesty emanating from the rough rock, enough to stir deep-seated awe in all who stood before it.

But for Rev that awe was tinged with hate, for it was the very power of the mountain that destroyed his family, and guilt, because he hadn't been able to save them, despite gaining this incredible speed.

"Ohmama!Icanoutrunanyoneandanythingnow,justlikeIalwayswanted.Butwhat'sthepointofhavingsuperspeedifIcan'thaveyouandGearwithme?!" His chest began to heave as tears began to well up. "Ikeepdreaming hic thatyouguysreallygotevacuatedintime hic ,thatthisisallanightmare,andI'mgoingtoopenmyeyesandseeGearstealingmystuff….ButIt'sNot!!!!"

He threw himself upon the craggy rock and wailed like he had so many days before. Borasilica was in ruins, and he had acquired a new kind of speech impediment that made people turn away in annoyance after a few minutes. What was he supposed to do now? What good was he?

Behind him, unseen, a pair of old owls hooted sadly as they watched the broken-hearted creature. They had lived in the Saguaro cacti for many years, and had immersed themselves in the tiny family, indulging Wyanet's two chicks with fresh-caught lizards and juicy scorpions whenever she wasn't looking. But the giant cactus was broken, and would take many more years than they had left to become livable again. But that didn't stop them from fussing.

"Oh Papa." She cooed. "Vat ever can ve do?"

"Nuzzingk, Mama. He is a big boy now. He has to learn his own way."

"But he is hurting! Ve must do sumethink!"

"Dere is nuzzling! Nuzzingk! He must be strong!" He emulated bulging biceps, then turned and lifted off quite heavily. Mama gave a last, fretting once-over at the boy before turning to follow.

"Ah!" She paused as a thought occurred to her, and discreetly plucked something out of her purse. She turned towards the ruined cactus and quickly attached two treasures: a snippet of dried snakeskin, and a brown feather. With a quickly blown kiss to Rev's back, she stretched her tattered wings to follow her husband to a new home bereft of character and memories.

The wind generated by her flight caused the snake shed and the tiny puff of tattered down left behind to shiver4. A sudden whooshing roar sound came from overhead.

_Roverbots: Small to medium-sized machines used to explore areas when the environment is considered too dangerous for biologicals. A good example is Spirit, the Mars Rover. Here, however, they have been programmed to intercept would-be salvagers by congregating in the surrounding area and generating a 'shock field', detaining the person until deactivated by code._

_San Gonzales: In the roadrunner language of Beep, it is called 'city of the pillar' after the towering structure renowned as the home of the Road Runner that forms the center hub of the once thriving town. Mapmakers opted instead to name it after a regional mouse who, though never canonized, was declared the 'Saint of the Small' for his dangerous and noble efforts to expose the hazardous working environments of local rodent populations due to unscrupulous government agencies in the 23__rd__ century._

_Ch'ikii-t'iishi: The roadrunner goddess of ill luck, considered responsible for the arrival of a Mo-habe, a roadrunner chick born with leg deformities. It is said she can only be appeases by leaving fresh snake sheds impaled on cactus thorns._

_Snake shed and feather: As noted above, snake sheds are considered a way to appease the goddess Ch'ikii t'iishi. Having spent years in the Runners' backyard, Mama has learned a thing or 2, like the addition of a personal feather to the offering as a way of absorbing the bad luck from the afflicted_

_Hi, me again! Liked it? Anyhoo, I just want to ask all you Rev fans if there's an episode where Rev actually __**matters**__. I saw 'Family Business' recently, and was annoyed by a concurrent fact with speedsters: they don't matter. Rev's off visiting his family, constantly late for every evildoer intervention. And what does Ace say? "Eh, it's okay. We got it under control." In other words- 'You have no significant power, so we only need ya ta fetch stuff for Tech." So, does he matter? _


	16. Chapter 22: Sorting

Authoress Update: What can I say? I am evil incarnate for making you wait this long. NaNoWriMo didn't pan out so well-2/3rds of the month thru, I realized the story as is had too many questions left unanswered, and overall lacked the anger that inspired it, so I scrapped it and began a rewrite, so of course I never made the finish line. Didn't help either that I decided to crochet several xmas items this year.! Argh,, accursed need for cash!!! sigh Maybe next year though…..

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 23: Sorting**

Wit a pneumatic _hssss_, the jet descended upon the sandy, cracked asphalt that once was the proud and beauteous Main Street of Borasilica. Peering through the windshield, Tech felt a pang of sadness-this street, only a scant few yeaers ago, once was crowned by the gleaming towers of the Four Corners University. Now those towers were cracked nearly beyond repair, and dingy with sand, birds' nests, and droppings.

"What a charming little hovel." Duck grumbled sarcastically, turning sheepish when the coyote coolly glared at him. "Well, now what?" he inquired.

"Lexi…." Ace said ponderingly, "…Can you hear anythin'?"

Lexi strained her ears with all her might. "No," she replied after a while, "I can't really hear much except you guys and all this machinery. If anything's out there, I'm losing it in all this background." She sunk into her seat with a pout and crossed her arms. "_Damn."_

"Well, den, we'll just hafta get out dere and try it again!"

"I suppose we'd have to leave the plane eventually," Tech mused as Duck and Slam exchanged shocked, worried glances at the thought of actually _leaving_ the plane's relative safety. "But I'd be careful, Chief- there's a _lot_ of stuff that can do damage here. No offense, but I think it best if **I** led the team outside."

Clouds gathered in the grey bunny's eyes. Did this desert mutt think that just because he was a desert species, he was somehow better than Ace? "No offense, but why should _you_ lead?"

"One- I'm an alumnus of this university, so I know my way around the city. Two- I already have a device that can pick up any electromagnetic fluctuations. Three- I can regenerate my body parts. Can you?"

The four occupants gawked at the fifth in dead silence. Finally, Ace gestured grandly to the opened hatch. "After you, sir!" he called, and saluted

Tech smiled in amusement.

**Chapter 24: Sorting**

Twenty unspectacular minutes later, tensions were quite high as Tech's gizmo beeped regularly. You sure that thing's working, doc?"

"Yes!" the green coyote shot back, rather irritated. "Like I said earlier, it's designed to pick up electromagnetic fluctuations caused by our doctor 'friend'"

"Okay, pretend I'm an idiot-" Duck started.

"Pretend?!" Lexi teased, smiling broadly at the duck's irritated glare.

"A-Hem! How- one might inquire if they had **not** been so rudely interrupted- does the device find these aforementioned, ah, fluctuations?"

"Muscle tissue works by way of electrical impulses between the stimulus and the brain. Therefore, one would need an external cyclical system that would coerce the system into reactivation, and it would have to be strong enough to encourage the system to perpetuate itself. An electric charge of a sizable nature would work, but it's occurrence is haphazard in nature. Ergo, a self-contained system is required, one that would emit readable emissions."

"_BRAAAAAAAAPPP!"_ Slam released a warm, foul wind behind the two rabbits. Evidently, he'd been lucky enough to find a fully stocked vending machine, and had 'liberated' its contents into his endless gullet.

"Now _dat's_ what I call a 'readable emission!'" Ace quipped as he and his pink counterpart wavered on the brink of nausea, their ears and whiskers curling in the aftermath.

_**Bing!bing! bing! bing! bing! bing! bing! bing!!**_

Al heads swiveled towards the suddenly excited device in Tech's hands. "It's due south of her!" Tech cried out.

"Den let's move it!" Ace cried back as he jogged off in the given direction. Lexi, Tech, and Slam immediately followed. Duck whimpered softly, turning longingly in the direction of the parked jet, trying to make sure he'd had the memory of it's location firmly in place-just in case-before sullenly following the rest to, he was quite certain-absolute doom.

_No, it's not very long, is it? And once again, I've left you on the edges of your seat. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, though, and felt I ought to give you __**something**__ for your troubles as I try to break through the cobwebs of my mind and find my mental notes. _


	17. Chapter 23: Begin the Beguine

Authoress Update: What can I say

Authoress Update: Say, I was looking at my word count the other day, and this whole thing is just **slightly** short for NaNoWriMo! Lol, no _wonder_ I never made the deadline last year!

I admit, guys, I got sidetracked. See, I was at work at the cleaners, where I stand and daydream for entertainment. And my mind whipped up a cute little Bleach-fic. I decided it could not go unforgotten, and well, a quick pit stop turned into quite a lay-over! If you like Hitsuzu fics, check it out (Shameless plug!)

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 25: Begin the Beguine**

Rev stared into the silent distance, his eyes fixated on a wispy contrail as it melted like spun sugar back into sky. He had been sobbing his heart out, again, when a warm sandy breeze brushed his hunched shoulders. It had felt so much like the touch of his mother; he had no choice but to raise his head-just in time to see a sleek, dark jet sail over towards the abandoned city. That had been an hour ago, and still he stood in his own backyard, brimming with a once dormant curiosity, but held back by a fear of the unknown.

"_The city's abandoned!_" Rev puzzled internally. "_Who could possibly be heading there, and why? Could they be thinking about finally reopening the university!?_"

"No,they'reprobablyjustdoingaflyovertodeterminewherethebestdemolitionpointsare!" Rev spoke bitterly, his beak pulled into a pout. But still….

But still, there was a chance, still a hope, that whatever dangers the government officials had deemed present were no longer there, or perhaps grossly misrepresented! If the university opened again, the students and faculty would need lodging…and Food!! He could get another job as a delivery boy-and with his speed, he could command top dollar!

"_Heck, why don't I just open my __**own**__ place? After all, I can literally deliver an important document before the ink __**does**__ dry!_"

_Fwoom!_

The little runner was startled out of his dreams of financial security by the muted boom. In the direction of the city, a massive cloud of dusty smoke was billowing upwards. Was it really just demolition duty after all?

Rev squinted his eyes, which, unbeknownst to him, were glowing opaque neon red. Something…. something didn't feel right. Somehow, he could sense a familiar presence. But who would he know would be blowing up the city?

"Whattheheckisgoingondownthere??"

**Chapter 26: Shall We Dance?**

Ace hacked and gagged on concrete dust as he rose up over the prone figure. "_hack hack_You okay, doll?"

"_koff koff_I thought I told you _koff_to never call me doll!" Lexi slowly rose on one elbow, covering her mouth in an attempt to keep breathing in any more particles.

"Sorry, musta had the sense knocked outta me." He quipped dryly as he pulled her to her feet. "Tech? Duck? Slam? You guys okay?"

The coyote calmly walked into the clearing, the heavily shredded garment the only clue to the disaster just moments prior. "And _**that**_, dear Chief, is why **I** insisted on leading."

"Yea, go on and just _lead_ us to certain doom!" Duck raged; his arms flapping wildly as he bounced up and down in one spot. "Because that's just what **I** think when **I** think of leader- _walking into booby traps and releasing massive explosions_!!"

"Shut up, Duck! We still gotta account for Slam! Anybody see which way he went?"

"#!!"

The quartet looked up to find a very confused, purple Tasmanian Devil hanging by the seat of his pants, which had snagged on the foot grip of a telephone pole.

"Well, looks like we found him." Lexi quipped. "But how do we get him down?"

The telephone pole obliged the young lapin-by snapping under the stress of Slam's additional weight. Slam plummeted to the ground, and fortunately, Duck still had the sense to 'Quack' before becoming a pancake.

"Does dat answer your question?"

The lady rolled her eyes as the genius muttered something along the lines of '…be careful what you wish for…' as Slam released a weak groan.

"Ok, gang, let's get back on track. Tech, what happened here? Was this a trap, or another extra credit project?"

"Well…If I had to wager a guess, I'd say the former, though I truly cannot rule out the latter-or if it was simply a pent-up energy source like a busted steam main. What I **do** know is that my device worked, and did indeed pick up a large source of electromagnetic fluctuations."

"And dat's why you t'ink it was a trap?"

"Precisely. If I was Vinn-and thank _O'kulumbo_ I'm not- I'd want to distract my enemies away from me by creating false trails. As for the explosives, if they didn't kill us, they'd tip him off to our presence."

"So true, 'Doctor' Coyote!"

A tiny man with outrageously large eyes appeared on a nearby rooftop. He panted heavily, and looked tired. This was due to his ridiculously short legs, which required him to jog everywhere just to keep up. Dark circles were set in fearfully pallid complexion, a testament to many hours spent awake in feverish pursuit of scientific glory. A lazy, deranged smile split his face, and a malevolent gleam shone from his blood-shot eyes. He was exulted. He was deranged. He was….

"Professor Vinn Price." Tech's golden eyes darkened considerably.

"Oh yes! So sorry, to have kept you waiting!" Every few words seemed to be accompanied by a gasping sound, like a fish that had flopped too far from the water.

"How could you have know we were coming?!"

Oh, you forget, 'Doctor'," Vinn Price wheezed, "I too, spent a significant amount of time here! In fact, being a _full-fledged_ professor, I had access to places your feeble mind could only _dream_ about! That is, assuming you dream of things other than doggie bones!" And he laughed, a nasally, wheezy, annoying sound.

"Such a pleasurable fellow." Ace quipped sarcastically. " I can't imagine why you've never introduced us before!"

Tech growled, ears flattened and teeth bared. Normally, he wasn't one to let his canine instincts be so visual, but he'd spent so many years being the object of humiliation by 'colleagues' whose claim to fame was a secure connection to the 'old-boys' club1.

"Ooo, bad doggie! Bad, Bad!" Price wagged a finger at Tech, clearly pleased at the canine's reaction. "We mustn't growl at our betters like that!"

"Betters?!" Tech spat. "Brine shrimp have a higher IQ that you!"

"Oh, no, that will _never_ do!" Price wheezed. "Bad doggies must be punished!" He picked up a large black box and pushed a button. Immediately, Tech began to whine as his body convulsed.

"TECH!" Ace cried in alarm, bolting towards his new friend.

"N-no!" Tech guttered through clenched teeth. "E-el-lectric…s-st-ay..back!"

Vinn let out a wheezy laugh as he pressed the button again. Tech collapsed as the painful shock sensation ebbed away, leaving him panting. Cautiously, Ace kneeled over him, and was surprised to see almost no signs of physical damage.

"So, are we going to be a good doggie?"

"_Jah-osh n'aa gonchan za'paa__2__!"_ The coyote snarled, his eyes bright white with fury.

The man's pale cheeks flushed red with anger. Though he certainly hadn't a clue what was said, he was quite sure by the tone he'd been greatly insulted! "So, you don't _want_ to play nice, huh? Well, maybe _I_ don't want to play with _you_ anymore!" A look of pure malice spread over his face. "But maybe…._ HE_ wants to!"

Price flipped open a small latch with his thumb and flicked the toggle switch it had kept hidden into an upright position. A deep growl rattled the concrete beneath the feet of the six heroes….

"Hoo boy." Ace said in a tiny voice.

'_Old Boys' Club – Despite public assurances of equality, few anthros occupy high-level positions. Much like the 20__th__ century 'glass ceiling', this discrepancy is often downplayed and ignored in general, and calls to its existence are treated with a kind of embarrassed apology._

_Jah-osh n'aa gonchan za'paa: Due to the family nature of this story, we will not be translating this, and allow to reader to invent one._

_Argh! __**Another cliffhanger?!**__ It's only b/c I love u guys so much!!_


	18. Chapter 27: Was This Trip Really Necessa

Authoress Update: I am evil

Authoress Update: It's almost November! Do u know what that means? It means FIW is going on hiatus (fans: "how could we tell?") so we can devote time to our second attempt at winning NaNoWriMo!! If you've never heard of it, it's a challenge to authors everywhere to complete a 50,000-word novel in 1 month's time. Check it out at / If you'd like a clue how big 50,000 is, the word count for FIW is (before this posting) 44,769! Wish me luck, and good luck to those of you who try it too!

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 27: Was This Trip Really Necessary?**

"LOOK OUT!" Ace screamed as the pavement beneath them cracked and crumbled. With one hand tugging along the weakened coyote, he used his other limbs to scuttle backwards further away from the widening maw. In horror, he watched as a crack he'd just latched onto broke away from the street and quickly tipped towards the sky as it simultaneously slid away. Tightening his grip on Tech, Ace tried to will into being a cohesive plan to survive. It never came.

Luckily, it didn't have to. Just as the fragment reached a ninety-degree angle, Ace became aware of a pair of hands. Quickly, everything went pitch black, then just as quickly he was on solid land.

"Boy, do you owe me, Flopsy!"

The grey and yellow rabbit turned around to face a panting Danger Duck. He noted a mix of annoyance and relief in the waterfowl's eyes. A slow smile spread over his features.

"Aw, yeah? Put on my bill!" Ace laughed.

Duck's cheeks puffed out, but as he opened his mouth Lexi cried out. "ACE!!"

In the hole, a silver metallic building had appeared. It had a flat bottom, but was rounded on top. As the team watched in horror, the 'building' rotated, until a discernable face comprised of two massive round yellow windows and a massive jaw was in front. It blinked several times, then focused on the quintet. Its features grew dark, it's eyes red.

"Say hello to my little friend, George!" Price beamed, proud as any new dad. "Don't be shy, George! Come on out and say a…_special_ hello to daddy's friends!"

The newly introduced robot suddenly lurched up. His wide shoulders created even more damage to the streets as they broke through the crust like a knife through a cake. He seemed to rise forever, ending up at about one hundred stories tall! George looked back down at the tiny creatures.

"Hel-lo." It monotoned.

"Hullo George." Ace said weakly from where he sat.

"Good-Bye." It then said, and then lifted one arm over his head. With increasing force and speed, the open hand descended towards the new heroes of Acmetropolis.

**Chapter 28: Seeing Red?**

"Run!" Tech barked.

"No kidding!" Duck barked back. They all scattered as fast as they could, managing to miss the initial blow. However, the resulting sonic boom released knocked them over, rolling them like brightly colored tumbleweeds. For a third time that day, earthquakes shook the city.

"Ace! This city wasn't built for this amount of seismic activity! These buildings were never repaired after the disaster! If it does that again, we're sitting ducks out here!" Tech glanced over at the irritated waterfowl. "Nothing personal!"

"He's right, Ace! I'm picking up _**tons**_ of cracking noises! Too many! I can't pinpoint where they're coming from!"

"Lexi, don't you dare panic on me!" Ace roared. "Keep yer head an' start using your eyes! We're gonna get dis guy!"

"Oh, my!" Price wheezed in glee. "I don't think so! Georgie1, that rabbit there needs a _spanking_!"

George pointed an index finger at the two rabbits. A circular panel opened, and a laser burst forth. The lapine pair, being the extraordinary athletes they were, deftly leapt out of its path to opposite sides of the battlefield.

"Oh no! Lexi, look out!" Tech cried out. Above her, a sandstone carving released itself from the wall, and was plummeting towards her. Incapable of moving away fast enough, she could only scream as death approached…

"LEXIIIIIII!!"

"Uff!" Lexi grunted as some force slammed into her side. Her eyes flew open as she heard Ace shriek her name. With a start, she realized two things:

One, she was alive and unharmed. Two, there was an _extremely_ fast heartbeat next to her!

Looking to her left, Lexi was amazed to see a tall, thin bird smiling back at her. "You…Okay…?" He seemed to strain his words, as if speaking was a difficult task for him.

"Uh-huh. Uh, thanks."

The bird nodded.

"Lexi!? Ace – Ace! She's over there! She's okay!"

The girl was dumbfounded when she realized how much distance was between her and her new comrades. "Whoa…who are you, The Flash?"

Before the bird could reply, George had also noticed the duo. With a roar of rage, he turned to face them. Its rage turned to confusion suddenly as the very pavement he ascended from buckled under his own weight. After flailing a moment, it righted itself and pressed on.

"Of course…that's his weakness!" Tech glowed with realization. "All the recent tectonic activity has de-stabilized the area! George's prodigious bulk, centered in one zone, will disrupt the crust!"

"Hunh??" Duck's and Ace furrowed their brows in confusion.

Tech sighed irritably and tried again. "One- Borasilica's riddled with underground laboratories and storage unit. Two- it was never repaired after the Explosion2. Three- it's a really_, really_ heavy machine!!"

Ace's eyes brightened as he caught on. "Gotcha, doc! Duck! Quack ova' there an' bring Lexi back, and tell that blur dat rescued her in the foist place to come too!"

Meanwhile, Lexi had also noticed the robot's temporary tipsiness. But at the moment, she had more pressing matters-like dodging giant, heavy feet! With luck, skill, and more than one assist from her new companion, she'd yet to receive any damage. But she was tiring, and fast. How long could she keep up the pace?

"Need a lift, pretty lady?"

Her face split into a grin as she whipped around. "Duck! Thank goodness!"

"Going my way?" He replied gallantly, offering an open hand with a little bow. Before Lexi could take it, the pair was unceremoniously shoved. 'Like being hit by a car' she thought as she sailed forward.

FWOOOMMM!!

"JeezeI'mreallysorryaboutthat,butyoueithercouldn'thearmeorweren'tlistening,andanywaysI'maniceguyandwouldhatetoseeyouturnedintopancakes!"

Duck opened his eyes to see a five foot crater where he'd been standing a moment ago, a large metallic object recoiling away, dripping soil and concrete. Not one to handle frustration and fear well, he popped up and begin chewing out the other bird.

"What the HECK is your problem?! Listen fella-there's only room in this crew for **one** feathered friend, got that?" Duck shook a finger warningly in Rev's face.

"Well, then you'd better get us out of here before the elections start!" The female turned to the thin bird apologetically. "Duck here can teleport, but he's never attempted it with three people before. Since you're so fast, do you think you can make it over to the others in one piece by yourself?" Rev grinned madly and nodded, pleased that he seemed to actually be appreciated! Quick as a wink, he raced off, weaving around the debris.

Ace jumped a bit at the bird's sudden appearance. Quickly though, he shrugged it off-It was just another weird thing in a weird day, after all. "Hey, kid, t'anks fer saving my buddy! Name's Ace Bunny, dis here's Tech, and dat ova dere in Slam."

"Greattomeetyou!Myname'sRev.RevRunner.But,uh,don'tyouthinkthisisanoddtimeforintroductions?Imeanwiththatkillerrobotandall?

Ace and Tech's ears drooped as they stared slack-jawed. Slam turned his head and let out a confused whine. Luckily, Rev's ego was spared when the remaining team members popped in. "Ace, guys! You get a plan while I was gone?"

"Yeah! We're gonna gonna use you as bait, get him ta climb the tallest building around, and den buzz 'em till he loses his grip an' falls!"

"Ohhh, that's rather cliché, now, isn't it?"

The six anthros looked up. Vinn Price smiled down at them from what looked like a flying saucer equipped with a pair of clawed arms. "You're ruining my Georgie's fun, you bad things. Looks like _I'll_ have to break you in first!" The arms snapped out towards the group with surprising speed. Duck 'Quacked' out, Rev sped off, and Lexi back flipped out of reach. Ace and Slam weren't so lucky, and found themselves gasping for air in their tight embrace

"VIIIIIINNNNNNN!!" Tech roared in fury.

"Awww, is the little puppy unhappy?" Price rasped. "Maybe this will make him feel better!" He thrust up a lever, and the captured boys screamed in agony as electrical current wrapped around and thru them. "No?" He laughed maniacally as Tech released various insults. "Funny, it makes _me_ happy! Hahaha!!"

."Duck, get them out of there!!" Lexi screamed.

"I can't! All that voltage means Duck, Extra Crispy!"

Tech boiled in fury as he watched helplessly as his two new friends fight valiantly for survival. It should have been _him_. _He_ could have withstood the agony, learning long ago that his body would self-heal, although the phenomena of pain would still be felt. He looked up at his old human rival, who was laughing so hard he looked in danger of falling out of his seat. Damn Price…damn him damn him DAMN HIM!!

"PRIIICE!!" The coyote roared again. The emotions of fury, hatred, and desperation bubbled up and boiled over inside him. His eyes began to glow a pure white, and he was dimly aware of a tingling sensation.

"**LET. THEM. GO. NOW!!"**

The mechanical arms were bathed in a white glow, and with an amazing amount of force, split apart like a flower in bloom. Ace and Slam fell heavily to the ground, panting and gasping. For several minutes, it was the only sound as Vin and the others stared dumbfounded at the smoldering equipment. Slowly, all eyes turned to the green-furred canine, who continued to stare at the broken machine.

Slowly, shakily, he raised a hand to point at it. "Did I…. Did I do that?" He asked weakly.

_George: Fans of the classic Bugs Bunny cartoons will get this immediately._

_The Explosion – One of the many names attributed to the Meteor in 2772. Other names include 'The Event', and the 'You Know'. It is in the vein of superstition that ppl do not refer to major tragedies in plain-speak. 21__st__ century examples include: '9/11', 'The Tsunami', 'Dubya'_


	19. Chapter 28: Electric BoogaLoo

Authoress Update: One hell of a hiatus, huh? I really appreciate all the notes I've been getting about you tucking this opus into your fave folders! Keep the guilt flowing!

**The Future Is Wild!**

By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep

**Chapter 28: Electric Boo-Ga-Loo**

"**LET. THEM. GO. NOW!"**

**The mechanical arms were bathed in a white glow, and with an amazing amount of force, split apart like a flower in bloom. Ace and Slam fell heavily to the ground, panting and gasping. For several minutes, it was the only sound as Vinn and the others stared dumbfounded at the smoldering equipment. Slowly, all eyes turned to the green-furred canine behind them. Tech's jaw was on the ground as focused on the jumbled, sparking machinery.**

Slowly, shakily, he raised a hand to point at the mess. "Did I…. Did I do that?" He asked weakly.

** Now it was Vinn's turn to contort in rage. "You! You broke my toy! You're a bad dog! Bad bad bad bad dog! What did it ever do to _you_! Bad, _bad_ dog! You've done a BAD thing! Oh, You've made me SOO ANGRY!"**

** "Funny, it made _me_ happy." Ace coughed and spat as he rose on shaky legs. Slam chortled in amusement and agreement. Vinn Price gave the bunny a look that would make Schwarzenegger1 cringe before pulling a pulling a few levers, causing the sputtering, smoking, but still flyable machine up into the air**

** "GEORGE! GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!"**

** "Huh?" The giant iron man looked up from the cluster of buildings he was tearing apart in his search for his 'father's' nemeses. He casually tossed the giant steel globe2 he'd been holding over his shoulder, where it landed dead center in the ruined Mercurial-Bond Stadium3 and walked over to its master. Vinn steered the machine eye level with his creation. "Look at what they did to daddy's Aerocraft 4! If you had destroyed them promptly when I told you, it wouldn't look like this, now would it?"**

** George whimpered and tried to protest against the accusations. "NO EXCUSES!" Vinn roared, wagging a finger. "JUST DESTROY THEM NOW!"**

** Despite been hundreds of times larger than his creator, the iron man cringed with fear and shame. His angry, red eyes reappeared as he turned towards the bothersome pests that had gotten him such a scolding.**

** "Tech!" Ace yelped frantically. "Tech, do that again!"**

** The bottle green canine succinctly replied, "Huh?" **

** Ace rolled his eyes with a growl. "You know! Dat trick ya did before, with tha' lights and the boom and da splitting of metal?"**

** "I…U'm not really sure how I did it the first time!"**

** Lexi squealed as she and Ace leapt off a springboard of asphalt pushed up from the giant's fist. "Well you better hurry up and remember fast!"**

** _'Okay' _Tech thought to himself, _'How did I do that? Let's see…Ace and Slam had been trapped in the Aerocraft's claw arm mechanism…could the proximity of the craft's gravity servos affected me? No, I've been around AGS's before this and nothing like that has ever happened. Hmm.'_ "Oooh, it's on the tip of my brain! Think, coyote, think!" He smacked his fist against his forehead; trying to force the solution out of whatever corner it was firmly entrenched in.**

** "TECH! NO!"**

** The shrill scream broke through the scientist's concentration, he only had but a moment to register that the world seemed to have gotten very dark. A scant moment later, it felt as if someone threw a sword made of fire down his spine, and every synapse burned like a thousand suns! He didn't have any time to scream – just a mere 'Gulp!' before he was a bloody mass of flesh beneath George's metal palm.**

** Around the crater, the five young heroes stared in mute horror at the silvery column as it slowly began to retract, leaving a crumbling crater in its wake. Lexi let out a sob, and Ace quickly pulled her in close. He didn't want her to see such a vulgar scene. _No one_ should see a sight like that. He squeezed her tight as she shook with grief. Slam whimpered, Duck turned a sickly shade of green and began to gag and heave. Rev stood stiffly, eyes and fist squeezed tightly shut, trying to reject the graphic imagery.**

** George inspected the gloppy mess of blood, fur, and dirton his silvery hand. "Ew." **

** "Hee hee hee heehee!" Vinn Price wheezed with laughter as he danced about in his damaged Aerocraft. "Good work, Georgie! Now that ugly doggie (heh heh, heh heh) is worm food!" He clicked his heels in the air and did a barrel roll with the aircraft. George, not understanding much else other than it had pleased its master, laughed and clapped its hands.**

** The cacophony pulled Ace out of his shock. Pure rage replaced it – rage at this madman's callous disregard for life! "You…. you…. ASSHOLE!" Ace snarled as his eyes glowed red. He shot a laser blast at the craft, causing it to tilt wildly.**

** Knocked off balance, Price stopped celebrating and gave the lagomorph an insulted glare. "How _dare_ you insult me like that? An inferior creature like you should know your place! Georgie! Destroy every one of them! Don't stop until you make them all look like their friend!"**

George stopped laughing and its features grew serious. Again and again, it slammed its hands onto (and sometimes into) the ground. Then, tired of that, it activated its fingertip-mounted lasers. The remaining heroes managed to jump, roll, 'quack', and run out of reach, but things were really getting dicey, and _fast_!

"Slam! Take out that laser!" Lexi cried out desperately as the iron giant blasted away at Rev. Luckily, the young 'runner was speedy enough to be just missed by the deadly light.

** "Whu..?" Slam looked about, before grinned in satisfaction as he found what he was looking for. "SLAM GOOD BOY!" He roared as he picked up and tossed a Transport Trailer5 at the deadly finger. His aim was true, and the vehicle lodged in the opening. The energy, with nowhere to go, backed up and blew out the giant's finger.**

** "Ow!" It cried, lifting the damaged hand for closer inspection. With a metallic whimper, it turned and presented the smoking contraption to his increasingly irritated master.**

** "Ooo, forget about your stupid finger! I'll give you 9 more just like it if you'd just hurry up and DESTROY THEM!"**

** George seemed pleased by this promise, and set forth with new determination. But 2 steps in, the ground collapsed below his left foot, and he flailed wildly.**

** "Dat's it!" Ace snapped his fingers, "Guys, remembah? Da ground here is riddled wit' underground chambers! We get him ova' to a weak spot, and he'll fall in!"**

** "And what'll we do with him then?" Lexi gasped.**

** "We'll cross dat bridge when we come to it! Now c'mon! We gotta get together and' act like a team-for Tech!"**

** Rev zipped up to the grey and yellow bunny and gave him a 'what about me?' kind of look. Ace gave him a cheeky grin. "You too, Redwings! Now all of ya, get over here! I gotta plan…."**

_**Schwarzenegger - I can't believe spell check actually has this!**_

'_**Earth-United by Science' – a very large model of the Earth designed by sculptor and former Air Force pilot Malina Malana. Her LED covered, geodesic dome caused Disney Entertainment Arts Division to sue for copyright. The case was settled out of court. The globe is the size of a 2 story home, with a hollow interior that served as a computing center and repair shop. The LEDs displayed scenes of science, holiday messages, global news, and on more than one occasion, marriage proposals.**_

_**Mercurial-Bond Stadium - Home of the 'Titanium Terrors'.**_

_**Vinn Price's Aerocraft is a lot like Luke Skywalker's Repulsorlift (**__**.**__**), using a mix of anti-gravity devices and air jets. Expensive to maintain, they are vehicles to the well off and idle. It's the base of Vinn's fortunes**_

_**The type used to carry plus sized vehicles like cargo jets, and such.**_


End file.
